


Lust and Miss Granger

by Hold_en



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Funny, Humor, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hold_en/pseuds/Hold_en
Summary: All Hermione wanted was Black to like her and now she's created a lust potion with Snape caught in the middle of the whole mess, but not in the way that you'd think...





	1. Chapter 1

 

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears, nor her eyes. She was running down the halls of Hogwarts, her head whipping back every now and again to see if he was still gaining on her.  
  
Yep. He was.  
  
He growled with his dark eyes alive with fire from an anger no one could tame. His eyes were narrowed, although he could not see her. He was taking long and deliberate strides that scared her as she turned ever so slightly to see his menacing form behind her, a few feet.  
  
Hermione tried to ignore the stitch in her side, her heart thumping so hard she could barely breathe. Her eyes wide with fright as she tried to stop her gasping at every opportunity.  
  
He was still behind her though, that damned overgrown bat. His eyes were narrowed, dark and flashing in anger. He was wearing his usual robe, and it billowed behind him as he ran after her. His hair whipped all around his face as his dark eyes now crazily scanned the dark and echoing hallway.  
  
She stood suddenly, cupping her own hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the heavy breathing. He strode up beside her, carefully listening for anything that may be of importance. The running footsteps had diminished suddenly, and he knew the vandal was ahead. He didn’t bother to hold back the contemptuous smirk laid upon his lips as his hands went behind his back.  
  
“I have a proposition for you, whoever you are,” Snape said dangerously soft, his lips pursing every now and then, “either give yourself up now and perhaps detention will be the worst. Because if you don’t, and I catch you,” he trailed off, not needing to go on.  
  
Hermione was trembling now, the bottom of his cloak brushed very close by, and she could faintly see him through the Invisibility cloak’s fairly thin material. She refused to give herself up though. Professor Snape had no mercy. She could see he was on a mission, his anger obviously driving him. No one stole from Severus Snape. 

_Draco_ , Snape initially assumed. The boy was the one who was most likely to steal from him; he often took far too many liberties considering the boy was his godson.  Bur why would Draco Malfoy feel the need to steal from him? He probably had all the supplies he needed right at his own home. No point in risking expulsion.

Then there was always Potter and Weasely; always up to something now that they were 7th years and Voldemort was gone. They thought they ran the bloody school at the worst of times and Snape gritted his teeth at this thought. His mind briefly flitted to Granger as a suspect as he was still convinced that she had stolen from him before. The Chamber of Secret; though he was never able to actually prove it. But no, the girl was too much of a teacher's pet for that. 

He looked all around, listening for any indication that his hunch may not be pure imagination. He sighed frustrated, and leaned against the wall, directly beside Hermione. He stood rigidly, his eyes all over as he brushed some greasy dark hair behind his ear. He listened hard, waiting for anything to sound off.  
  
They stood like that for a good half-hour and during this time Hermione noticed the man’s determination. He stood with lips pursed as he waited for anything to help him catch his culprit. He really was a greasy git, his dark oily hair almost glowing from the light from the candles. His sallow cheeks so very pale, his beady, black eyes shooting all over. The man was like a checkerboard but less creative. Black and white. That was him.  
  
She shivered as she imagined his knuckles brushing her stomach. His fingers may have seemed lean and graceful looking to any outsider, but she knew what he had done with hands like that. He had been a Deatheater and although she pretended he did nothing to stir fear from her, he did. But as her fear started to diminish in the hallway, ever so temporary, she wondered sadly watching him, how he had managed through life. Alone and so unhappy with everyone he met.

He stood with his arms crossed in front of him like a spoiled child. He was frowning even more deeply now. Always isolated, she noticed, he could barely stand the other professors. She almost felt sorry for him, but recalled the moments she had spent with him earlier that day in his class.  
  
_“_ _Miss Granger, if you insist in raising your hand at every question I present and not giving your classmates a chance, I will take fifty points from Gryffindor for your annoying over-confidence._ _”_  
  
She frowned now, not that anyone could see. That man lived on sheer fury and anger and she didn't care if he was upset that he'd been burgled. But as his eyes began to droop from fatigue she noticed and sort of felt sorry for keeping him up. He did have classes to teach tomorrow morning and she had stolen from his stores after all.  
  
_Yeah, well you have to attend a bunch of classes, tomorrow, including his,_ a voice said in her head, and Hermione was inclined to agree.  
  
Finally with a heavy sigh of defeat, he moved from the wall, startling Hermione and with a spin on his heel furiously strode down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off of the walls and after a few minutes he was gone. Thank Merlin.  
  
She moved slowly, almost expecting him to come back. She removed her shoes and quietly padded back to her dormitory. All her roommates were asleep, as it was almost three in the morning. She dropped the invisibility cloak beside her bed, leaning against her door and sliding down its smooth surface until she landed on the floor, her back still against the cool door.  
  
She then grinned and pulled the small vial from her pocket. She placed it on the marble floor beside her, feeling her smirk turn into a relieved and large smile. It clinked as it hit the ground softly, the glowing green liquid inside swirling around. It was actually quite breathtaking, the color and movement, it looked as if a small spirit was dancing, trapped inside.  
  
Hermione thought back to her daring escape, feeling as if Harry and Ron would be proud of her when they heard what had happened.

She had been in Snape’s storage that night, looking for a very rare and particular potion of Snape’s. She had seen it once when asked to retrieve lacewing flies in her sixth year.  And that evening she’d made it quite effortlessly into the potions storage room, having borrowed Harry’s invisibility cloak. But her confidence and single-minded determinism had caused her to overlook the fact: chance. And tonight, by chance, Snape had been drawn to his storeroom for a bottle of something for Pomfrey.

To Hermione’s total horror only seconds after she had grabbed the vial she’d been searching for, Snape had walked in, looking completely livid. He’d known immediately that someone had broken in and he had a feeling that he could still feel a presence. His head had turned to the side, listening for something, anything. And at that exact moment; Hermione had stifled a sneeze and a small squeak emerged. His head had whipped around, looking exactly where she was standing, and she felt her heart stop momentarily.  
  
“I don’t know who is in here,” he said with an angry scowl upon his pale face, that deep almost hypnotic voice, “but rest assured as soon as I catch you, detention will not even be an issue. It will be straight expulsion.”  
  
Hermione had felt her bladder freeze right there as her heart thumped painfully, expulsion? In her single minded pursuit she didn’t actually think she would have been caught. What was she thinking?! She had been so caught up in her plan she hadn’t even bothered taking this into consideration.

At this she had seen her chance, and grasping the cloak tightly around her, she had slipped past Snape. He scanned the room, his dark eyes trying to make out anyone inside. She wasn’t expecting his hand to come up and brush against her stomach through the invisibility cloak. His brief, unexpected touch caused her to suck in her breath before she knew what she was doing. At the soft sound she saw his eyes widen as he groped for her again, but she was gone into the hallway. He had heard the footsteps scamper down the hall in the direction of the Library and he had rushed off after her, determined to catch whoever thought they could take on Professor Severus Snape.  
  
Now safe in her common room she sighed in relief; Snape could not reach her here. She leaned over as she sat cross-legged on the cold floor, hypnotized by the dancing figure in the small vial. She smiled at her anticipation for this potion. She had been working for a few days now, and it called for the certain ingredient that couldn’t be found anywhere else. The small taped parchment, in Snape’s own cramped writing read of a small word; _Lust_.  
  
---  
  
Soon, Hermione thought with a secret thrill of glee, Sirius Black would be hers.


	2. A Typical Humiliation

Hermione tried to contain the victorious smile that was spread on her face as she sat in the Library the next afternoon. She yawned loudly and stretched towards the ceiling; she was exhausted after her adventure last night. As if on impulse she glanced around the almost empty Library and scribbled her name down and childishly added a last name beside it.  
  
_Hermione Black_.  
  
Ah, that dark man had certainly captured her attention. From the first meeting, to his continual appreciation of her intelligence and wisdom. He always treated her with respect, with care and Hermione was convinced that if she were a bit older he would have asked her out long before.

To Hermione, he was a man’s man; he was strong and handsome and able bodied. She let out a deep sigh at that. He was clever and she learned after many late night talks that he had been the top of his classes at Hogwarts as well. They had so much in common!

He also had deep brooding features and a smile that did things to Hermione that surprised even herself. When he smiled at her she could see a flash of the young Padfoot that must have broken so many hearts. And this man was the cause of the dangerous Lust vial adventure.  
  
She quickly placed her hands over small written script of parchment as she heard footsteps behind her. Ron waved as he strode over to her. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks as she crumpled the paper and shoved it in the pile of paper she had in front of her.  
  
“Hey Hermione, What’s that?” he asked grinning boyishly. It didn’t matter they were almost legal adults, Ron would always look the same. Peaky and not completely confident in his own lank body.

Hermione shrugged and stood as she glanced at the large clock in the Library, her papers loosely in her hands. She realized she had completely lost track of time and if she didn’t rush she would be late for class with… Him. She winced at the thought of seeing Snape again today.  
  
“Sorry Ron, I’ve got to dash. Potions.”  
  
Ron nodded, telling her he’d see her there, but he had to pick something up, Hermione wasn’t really listening, she was already daydreaming again.  
  
Sirius had become a new teacher at Hogwarts, Defense against the Dark arts ever since Snape had moved back to Potions, deciding that after the fall of Voldemort he would enjoy his retirement teaching the course that he loved. No one had been more disappointed than Neville to see the surly man back at Hogwarts after the fall of Voldemort. Everyone had expected (aka fervently hoped for) his early retirement. 

Hermione always received top marks in Sirius’ class, and she often found herself gazing at him as he gave some demonstration. This morning had been no different. She even tried a smoothing spell this morning on her hair, just to look extra attractive as _Sleekeazsy_ didn’t quite seem to quell her bushy mane.

Sirius hadn’t given her a second glance during the entire class, but as she exited the Library to attend Potions, Snape unfortunately had.  
  
“A little glamorous for a Potions class, wouldn’t you say, Miss Granger?” Snape said with a vicious smirk that Hermione almost shrank from as he glanced at her hair.  Snape’s eyes almost glittering mischievously as he felt her embarrassment, viewing as she shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.  
  
“I don’t know who you mean, Professor.”

Snape had raised a knowing eyebrow accompanied with a sharp nod and taken a stride beside her, knocking her off balance and sending her papers flying. She bent down to pick all her papers up and glared after him.  
  
As a result of all of that, she was literally a minute late and Snape gave her detention with Filch for that night. Hermione made her way to her desk sulkily dropping her books loudly and slamming down into her chair. Snape whirled from the potion he was writing on the board and glared openly at her.  
  
“More immaturity like that, Miss Granger,” he said with a miserable look, “and I’ll add a few extra hours to that detention.”  
  
Hermione muttered an apology and quietly opened her book to the appropriate page, quill in hand. The hour went by slowly and dragged, and they still had a while to go. Today seemed to be a note taking day, and that meant this was a BORING class. This mundane schedule was only broken when Snape suddenly stood, his eyes falling on all of them.  
  
“I’d like to bring something to your attention,” SNape said menacingly, walking up and down the aisles of the dark classroom. “Someone broke into my private storage last night and stole something of mine. I’m giving the vandal to the end of today, a chance to come clean and give me back what is rightfully mine.”

Snape said the next part through almost clenched teeth, “if not, there will be expulsion for the thief when caught.”  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone muttered about themselves. Hermione on the other hand was looking dreamily to the distance as she contemplated telling Sirius her feelings. She could barely register Snape walking down the aisles with a threatening air.  
  
Out of nowhere a hand slapped her desktop and Hermione gasped.  Her dark eyes shot up to a darkly bemused Snape.  
  
“Glad to see you were paying attention,” he said viciously, his dark eyes scanning her face.

“I’m sorry sir.”

He looked like he was about to say something cutting when he caught her trying to stifle a yawn.  
  
“Late night, Granger?” he asked suspiciously, leaning to her face and scowling. Hermione tried to keep her features minimal, raising a dark eyebrow to him innocently as she felt his hot breath upon her face.  
  
“No Professor,” she said plainly, “I’m just tired in general. Must be all the homework.”  
  
What was this? Pick on Hermione day? She frowned and tried to organize the papers she had dropped earlier because of him. Suddenly a rather gaudy looking one with small hearts caught both their eyes; only Snape was quicker on the reflexes.  
  
“What’s this?” Snape said gleefully pulling the paper from her in spite of her whimpered protests. “A love declaration perhaps?”  
  
Hermione attempted to pull the paper back from him, her face burning with humiliation. The entre class was silence, watching this exchange in shock.  Hermione grasped at the paper a moment longer before he swiftly snatched it away. He stepped a bit away, scanning the words before letting an oily smirk cross his features.  
  
“Tsk tsk,” he clucked with his tongue, “Miss Granger. Honestly. I doubt he’d be interested.”  
  
All the humiliation she’d felt when he’d made fun of her teeth back in her fourth year was back. She felt hot tears pricking at the back of her eyes and she bit them back with all the power she could muster. All the students were looking to the two of them as Hermione’s beet red face was thrust to hide behind her hands. Ron was watching in confusion, as was Harry.  
  
Hermione tried to snatch the paper once more from his slender hands, but he held it just out of reach, a devious smirk on those cruel lips of his. He was such a bully, even at his age. He was about to speak again when a voice sounded from the door.  
  
“Severus.”  
  
Hermione and Snape’s heads whipped to the door as Sirius strode into the Potions classroom in all his confident glory.  He swaggered a bit, fixing Snape with his gaze as he strode to the front of the classroom. Hermione saw him drawing nearer to them and she silently wished she could Apparate back home to London.

 _This can’t be happening._  
  
Sirius smiled at some of the girls who called out to him, waving girlishly. Snape tried to gauge Hermione's reaction out of the corner of her eye. She looked extremely nervous. Suddenly the cruel smirk was back on his pale face.  
  
“Ah, hello Black,” Snape said, gliding over to him, his hands still clutching the tattered paper. Snape drew over to speak with him a moment in the corner of the room, telling them to continue copying the notes from the board.

 But for once the class know-it-all was ignoring a teacher’s direction. Hermione was watching Snape and Black with intense scrutiny. She felt her shame flood through her body as Snape still held the paper. Sirius suddenly looked to Hermione and waved a bit with a friendly smile. Hermione's eyes darted back to her paper in humiliation.

 _Please tell me he didn’t tell him._    
  
Snape waltzed back over, as Black left, watching over her shoulder as she wrote out her formulas. “I’d like to see you after class, Miss Granger,” he said silkily, causing Hermione to flinch.  
  
Class ended faster than expected and as the last student filed out Hermione took a deep sigh. She packed her things slowly, wanting to defer her humiliation as long as possible. With a slow exhale she tentatively approached his desk. He sat there marking papers and ignoring her resolutely.  
  
“You wanted to see me, sir?”  
  
Snape sat at his desk comfortably, enjoying her discomfort. He nodded and retrieved her crumpled paper from his desk. He had placed it there for the duration of her class, causing her to wince every time she glanced up at it. He pushed it towards her now on the desk.  
  
“I believe this is yours.”  
  
Hermione didn’t answer, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. Snape raised an eyebrow in mock confusion.    
  
“It’s not yours? Well, then I suppose I’ll just have to give it to the other recipient whose name appears on the paper. A Professor Black.”  
  
Hermione shook head feeling exasperated, “Please give it to me.”  
  
“Don’t worry, Miss Granger,” Snape said scathingly as he sat comfortably. He retrieved and then tossed her the crumpled paper, which she caught effortlessly.”I wouldn’t dream of telling your Prince Charming of your undying affections.”  
  
Hermione couldn’t look at him, her face still stinging from the heat of shame that floored her. Why had he bothered doing it at all? A lesson? Just to be cruel. She raised her furious eyes to meet his gaze and felt her resolve leave her as she met his impassive gaze. She felt her hands curl into angry fists as she stared him down.  
  
She hated Professor Snape.  
  
She really, truly, hated him.  
  
Suddenly she turned, not saying anything and prepared to head out the door when his silken voice invaded her ears once more.  
  
“Oh, and Miss Granger? Pay attention in my class from now on.”


	3. Of All the Luck

Hermione excitedly gave a silent cheer in the third floor women’s washroom later on that day. Her hair was damp on the back of her neck; she had been stewing over the Potion quite a while. She brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead, peering into the small and bubbling purple potion by her knees.   
  
She sighed wistfully, a large smile on her mature face as she imagined what the Potion’s potency would entail. From what her research had yielded he would be instantly besotted with the first person he saw and Hermione would be that person. Images of him taking her roughly over his desk suddenly flashed to the forefront of her mind and Hermione flushed delighted.

 _Hermione Black. It sounds good._   
  
Moaning Myrtle suddenly flew beside her, her transparent spectral frame floating melancholy with a loud sigh. She swept by Hermione several times before she sighed loudly again, observing the girl lost in her thoughts.   
  
“What are you so happy about?” Myrtle muttered darkly. Hermione looked to the transparent girl and gave a small frown of pity.   
  
“Hello Myrtle,” she said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t see you there.”  
  
This evidently was not the right thing to say, as Myrtle began moaning and wringing her hands above her head in a truly frantic fashion. Hermione winced against the sound, preparing herself for a ghostly tantrum.   
  
“No one ever does,” Myrtle moaned hastily pulling away from Hermione, “because who would care about STUPID, BORING, DEPRESSING MYRTLE?!”  
  
“I’m sorry, Myrtle. I’ m just making a Potion,” Hermione said as she tried to casually change the topic, but Myrtle gave a low snort, suddenly breaking from her usual miserable state.   
  
“Looks like a love potion to me,” Myrtle said swooping closer and peering nosily into the cauldron as well. Hermione frowned at this interruption.  
  
“How would you know?”  
  
“You think you’re the first lovesick witch to come in here and brew one?”  Myrtle laughed with a screech  and flew into a nearby toilet with a thundering splash, her laughter echoing off of the porcelain.  
  
Hermione muttered a few curses, and then maintaining a stance of focus she grabbed the small liquid lust vial from her pocket, dropped a few dabs of it into the potion and swept it back up, putting a dark cork in it. She stirred it softly a moment, before she gathered the contents into a small perfume bottle she’d bought in Hogsmeade the week prior.  
  
A bell clanged in the distance and Hermione stood, her eyes narrowed in grim determination. She shoved the bottle into her robes’ pocket and headed out towards the great hall. It was lunchtime and she was ready.

 _I can do this._   
  
She pushed the bathroom door open quickly and rushed into the hallway, her shoes making small scuffling sounds as she tore down the hallway. She knew she should be more calm, but she was desperate to see Black.

She drew into the great hall and her gaze immediately went to Black, pouring pumpkin juice into a goblet.  She was about to stride right up to him then, feeling a confidence she hadn’t felt in a long while. But out of the corner of her eyes she saw Snape eyeing her darkly. She supposed she was being quite obvious, standing there in the middle of the rows of tables.

Hermione found her place beside Ron at the table; Harry was off talking to some Ravenclaw Quidditch players about an upcoming game.  Hermione swallowed and frowned, taking a hearty sip of her pumpkin juice.   
  
“Potion not going so well?” Ron asked smirking, Hermione shook her bushy head and pinched him harshly on the arm. He laughed, pulling his injured arm out of her reach. She had informed her of his plan when he caught her smuggling the cauldron into the washroom. They hadn’t told Harry anything about it yet.  And it was probably best if they never did. He always rolled his eyes at the girls, who talked dreamily of his Uncle, and Harry always responded with a dangerously quiet; _Stupid twits._ Hermione wished not to be put into that category.  
  
“Actually, the potion is done,” Hermione said shoving some bread in her downturned mouth, “but it’s too risky right now. Snape’s got his eyes on me after yesterday.”  
  
Ron gulped his food loudly, remembering Hermione’s humiliation. “The gits probably just trying to scare you. You know he still thinks you stole from his storage.”  
  
Hermione nodded, not speaking so fast, then replied, “true. Switch spots with me would you?”

 She asked as she swiveled out of her chair, sitting on the opposite side until she had a clear view of Sirius. She made as if she was eating, but surreptitiously watched Black with a dreamy look on her face that Ron could only internally chuckle at.  
  
Sirius was eating his chicken while carrying on a conversation with Sprout at his left. She smiled and ate gingerly, trying to ignore the chicken bits occasionally dropping down his chin. The man ate like a pig but Hermione didn’t notice.  She was looking at him like he was king of all wizards, and she sighed dreamily before looking back to Ron.

“How does it work?” Ron asked interestedly looking to the small perfume bottle in Hermione’s hand. Hermione motioned for him to keep his voice down and Ron obliged.   
  
“As soon as I spray it on him, he’ll be enamoured with the first person he sees,” Hermione said giddily, clapping her hands together in delight. Ron faltered a moment, unsure if he should voice what was on his mind. Hermione was one of his best mates and it felt wrong to let her go headlong into this without voicing a bit of reason.   
  
“I need to say Hermione, that’s not love. That’s just forced lust.”

“Well obviously,” Hermione replied haughtily looking to Ron, “but I’m hoping that once he lets himself fall for me, we won’t need the potion anymore. I need him to see me as something more than just Harry’s friend.”

Ron stared at his friend then, surprised at her strange reasoning. She hadn’t been quite the same since the end of the war. She was still the genius bookworm of a friend he’d always cared for. But there was a sadness there, a hollowness that he wondered if she wasn’t trying to fill it with Black.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bit of a silly idea, Hermione?”

Hermione wasn’t listening to Ron’s pearls of wisdom as it were; she was standing with the small perfume bottle in her hands, nervously tossing it back and forth between her left and right hand. Hermione tentatively made her way to the head table, her focus completely on Sirius. Sprout had left his side, and he was sitting off a bit from the rest of the teachers. She decided this was a most opportune time to put her plan into action.  
  
“Hello Professor Black,” she sat standing across from him, “having a pleasant meal?”  
  
Sirius took a second from his dinner to glance up, and eyed Hermione with a gentle grin. She was dear to him, as one of Harry’s closest mates. He swallowed his meal in a loud gulp and smiled, showing off his dimples.  
  
“Yes. Quite. And you?”  She nodded, and he was confused when he noticed a small tinge to her cheeks. She was nervous? Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape stand, that might explain her nervousness, but she wasn’t looking at Snape. She was looking at him, her cheeks still reddened.   
  
Hermione suddenly brought a small perfume bottle from her cloak’s pocket in one sudden movement, and smiled gently to Sirius. “I have a new cologne I made for Harry’s Christmas present this year. Could I test it on you, and you can tell me if you think Harry would like it?”  
  
Sirius shrugged gently, “wouldn’t Ron be a much better model?”  
  
Hermione looked uncertain a moment, but counted with a subtle. “Actually, Ron’s allergic to colognes, and I need a man’s point of view, and you’re the closest male to Harry. You know how much he values your opinions.”  
  
Sirius seemed to contemplate this a short moment, then nodded and sat patiently. Hermione’s hands fumbled with the perfume nozzle, and she suddenly noticed Snape coming up beside her. She better act fast. Quickly she sprayed Sirius, and a gentle mist settled over him, he closed his eyes as the spray neared his eyes.   
  
Hermione stood fidgeting, waiting for him to open his eyes and see her when Snape strode over to her, purposely in her face as he tried to enrage her.   
  
“Miss Granger, what do you think you’re doing? You’re getting perfume or whatever concoction that is, all over the head table meals!”   
  
Hermione wondered why he had even bothered coming over. Just to yell at her?  Well, it was like Snape to be so vindictive for no reason. He used to take points from third years if they sneezed around him. Suddenly Black’s smooth voice broke the silence.   
  
“What’s the problem?”  
  
Hermione looked to Sirius, waiting for him to look at her with adoration, and come hither look, but to her absolute horror Black was not looking to her with looks of lust in his eyes.   
  
He was looking at Snape.


	4. Timeframe

 

Snape looked reproachfully to Sirius, his back straight as he sneered at him angrily. He had always hated Sirius Black, and nothing was going to change that, ever since that day with Lily and James. He wondered briefly why Sirius was looking at him with a look usually reserved for attractive witches in Hogsmeade.

Black was leaning on one elbow with his chin in his palm, looking at Snape dreamily with a strange smile on his tan face. His hair was swept back in a dashing sweep and Snape always felt self-conscious when around him, he had ever since they went to school together.   
  
Snape was as many knew, not an attractive man; a hook nose, sallow and greasy complexion marked with dark beady eyes that seemed to peer out from holes in his face. He walked with a rigid and miserable stance, that all were turned off of.  
  
Sirius on the other hand had dark hair and eyes, but a handsome and rugged face, with an air of confidence that all the girls seemed to fancy. His hair fell into his eyes with a casual elegance and his body was lean and toned.   
  
Snape snuck a glance at Hermione, who surprisingly enough looked absolutely horrified as she looked from him to Black. But why? She was enamored with the man!    
  
But now, Hermione was sweating bullets, her fringe falling into her eyes as she looked from Snape to Black and Snape felt the fury of years ago as he recalled the time with Lily, James and Black. Black had always been the ladies man, quite the prick as Snape recalled with angry fervor. But as Snape stole glances at the ever worried Hermione, the question remained;  
  
Why did brilliant witches always fall for twits?

He glanced back over his shoulder at the ever annoying Sirius Black, who had all of a sudden adopted quite a softness around the eyes. The man sighed wistfully as Snape sneered at him.

“What’s wrong with you, Black?”

“Nothing,” Black answered shortly, as if he’d just been mortally offended at Snape’s tone. His easy smile dropped from his face and he looked quite petulant. Snape narrowed his eyes at him and then back at Hermione who stood as still as a statue at his elbow.

“What are you still doing here, Granger? Five points for insolence.”

Hermione didn’t know quite what to say, and so with a ball of horror wedged firmly in her gut she walked off to sit with Ron and now, Harry. Harry waved to her, looking merry as he consumed his dessert.  
  
“Hey Hermione,” he said with a careless smile, his hair ruffled and he looked more like his father than ever. “What were you chatting to Sirius about?”   
  
Hermione’s face blanched, “I wasn’t talking to Sirius,” she squeaked as Ron shot her a warning look. Harry looked confused and gave a breezy laugh.   
  
“I just saw you. You, Sirius and Snape, were all chatting. What about?”  
  
Hermione didn’t answer as her mind was at a loss and Ron shrugged his shoulders in a helpless stance.  She looked to the head table seeing Black gazing over to Snape who was several seats over. Snape was frowning and letting his dark hair fall like a curtain as he leaned over his dinner, trying to shield himself from Black’s rather obvious gaze.  
  
Snape’s dark eyes suddenly traveled to Hermione unintentionally catching her eyes, and when he felt her own eyes meet his he flicked his away back down to his dinner. Hermione held back the internal desire to scream.   
  
Suddenly Harry’s face broke out into a wide smile as his green eyes twinkled, he looked to Hermione with a wise smile.  
  
“Do you fancy Snape?”

Hermione’s features immediately contorted into a look of obscene horror. Hermione shook her head in a fog at this, what the bloody hell was he on about? Her attracted to Snape? She tried to keep the laughter from bubbling out of her mouth.

“What?” she asked in true confusion. Harry laughed though, taking she and Ron by surprise. Imagine anyone fancying Severus Snape! The giant bat of Hogwarts who seemed determined to make everyone miserable just be being present.   
  
“I just notice you staring at him,” Harry aid with a boyish grin, “seems you might fancy the git now that he’s a war hero.”

Hermione made a frantic motion with her hands to stop Harry from speaking further, but he didn’t appear to notice. Ron was trying to stop from laughing by shoveling more pie into his freckled face.

 “It’s fine Hermione, I understand,” Harry said magnanimously, “He did a lot for us. He’s not my favorite person but I’d be fine if you wanted to-”

“Please Harry,” Hermione said with a paling face, “I assure you that I do not, nor have I _ever_ fancied Snape.”

With that she stood, silently motioning to Harry’s head at Ron. He glanced up to see his friend frantically urging him to leave the great hall with her. He did so with a made up Quidditch reason to Harry before following her out the door.   
  
They made their way out of the hall until they reached a secluded spot and Hermione was trying to think about how to be rational about the whole situation.  
  
“What happened?” Ron asked wide-eyed and nervously biting his lower lip, Hermione tried to remain calm and answer his question without screeching. She looked to him with a worried far off look and answered in quick hushed tones.   
  
“Black didn’t see me first when he opened his eyes,” Hermione said with a groan, “he saw Snape.”  
  
Well, if there were any time NOT to laugh, this would have been it. But, Ron as it was could not contain his obvious glee. He practically fell to the stone floor, laughing so hard he could scarcely breathe. After a few moments of side-splitting laughter with Hermione fixing him with a most severe frown, he straightened and looked to her.

“ This is too rich, Hermione. Snape’ll bust a ruddy blood vessel!”  
  
“RON!” Hermione said loudly, trying to get him to focus on the dilemma. ”Don’t you understand? Black is now completely in lust with Professor Snape. Tell me, can you think of anything that could possibly go wrong with that?”  
  
Ron was still giggling but managed a shaken, “Er, professional discretion? Er, Snape and Black aren’t gay? Well actually, who’s to say? And well, Harry’ll kill you if they get married.”  
  
At this he started laughing again, but stopped when he saw that his friend was near tears. He stopped laughing suddenly and put a serious look on his face.  
  
“Hermione,” Ron said trying to be logical, “how long does this potion last? An hour? A day? ”   
  
Hermione obviously didn’t want to answer as she gingerly deliberated over how exactly to phrase her most embarrassing mistake.  
  
“A year.”


	5. Why so Sirius?

Detention with Filch was fresh in Hermione’s mind as she walked down depressed to the Potions class, where she was to meet him. Ugh. But if all went to plan, Ron would take care of it. Ron had prior in the secluded spot they had obtained, told her she was stupid, selfish and all the other names in the book, but seeing her tears had hugged her and informed her he’d try to help.  
  
Now she stood a few feet from Snape’s office, sure that if she even went by it and made a noise he would stomp out and give her another detention. She surely didn’t need that. A few moments passed as Hermione stood, her body aching from exhaustion. She had been working very hard all day, and the last thing she needed was a detention with Filch. She looked to Snape’s door and she questioned whether she should go in.  
  
Her minds flitted to Ron’s conversation with her after all the name-calling was out of the way and he offered to help her.   
  
“So this stuff if extremely potent and lasts a year?” Ron had asked earnestly to which Hermione had nodded emphatically.  “And you think you know the counter curse or elixir to set things straight again?”  
  
Another nod from Hermione.   
  
“Then what’s the problem?”  
  
“It’ll take a month to brew,” Hermione had explained looking guiltily to her hands. “And it means sneaking into Snape’s private stores again.”

***

  
Snape sat at his desk that night, the only sound was the bubbling of a nearby potion and the sound of a quill scraping against parchment. Suddenly a knock sounded on his heavy door.   
  
“Enter,” he said loudly with that familiar sense of a king in his castle persona and went back to his work. He heard the door open and the light scurry of feet.   
  
“I haven’t all day,” Snape muttered hollowly to the figure that drew into his classroom. “I’ve got a heap of pathetically inept papers to mark, so make it quick.”  
  
“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” said a deep and smooth voice. Snape’s head snapped up as Black stood with a boyish grin on his face. Snape automatically scowled, irritated at the intrusion from his interminable thorn in his side.  It wouldn’t matter how many years passed, Sirius Black would always be that annoying bastard that almost got him killed by a werewolf.  
  
“What do you want?” he asked harshly and Black almost looked hurt, then countered with another quick smile.   
  
“What are you up to tonight? Care for some tea?” Sirius asked softly in a voice that was far too serene. Black moved to the seat across from Snape’s large desk and Snape looked to him in anger at the intrusion. Was he never to be rid of this horrible dog? And now he was offering him tea of all things? Snape looked over the man suspiciously, knowing that this was surely a game or trick.   
  
“I’ve got a lot of work and am not in the mood for your petty games,”  Snape growled now standing and giving Black an eyeful as the man took in his dashing pose and face. Black smiled appreciatively at this opportunity, and noticing he was under obvious scrutiny, Snape whipped his cloak around himself and pointed to the door.  Black gave him an airy shrug and turned on one sharp boot heel.

“I suppose I’ll see you later then.”  
  
Snape’s eyes bulged at the familiarity in the man’s tone, as if they were old mates that would meet up at the three broomsticks for a pint. He scowled more deeply, his arms folding in front of his chest dramatically.

“Leave.”  
  
Black nodded as he acknowledged his presence was a bother.  “Sorry to have bothered you Severus,” he said shortly and made his way out the door.

Snape collapsed into his chair, rolling his eyes and muttering that Black had evidently been let out of St. Mungo’s too soon.  Suddenly another short rap sounded on his door and Snape’s temples throbbed painfully.   
  
“I TOLD YOU TO BLOODY WELL SOD OFF!” Snape roared as the door opened again. Hermione’s worried face whipped around the door and Snape’s held in an irritated groan.   
  
“Sorry Professor,” she said meekly, “It’s just that Filch hasn’t shown up for my detention and I wasn’t sure what to do.”  
  
She entered the room tentatively and stood by the door, obviously her emergency escape route. Snape was about to answer her when she interrupted rudely in that traditional Gryffindor style.   
  
“I saw Professor Black leaving, and he looked a bit disturbed, should I go assist him instead for my detention?”  
  
Suddenly Snape’s moderately good mood was ruined. Always these students running after Black as if he were Merlin’s gift to the word. He sneered at the girl’s obvious intentions, disappointed at her lack of tact.   
  
“No, Miss Granger. If Filch hasn’t shown up then I believe I could use your assistance myself.”  
  
Hermione looked to him nervously and suddenly wondered why she had bothered to come to him at all. And she didn’t like the way he was looking at her, sort of beady and thoughtful. Snape tapped a tapered finger to his lips and pointed to his private storage.  
  
“I need those alphabetized,” he said thoughtfully, “I suppose you’ll know where everything goes.”  
  
This was too easy! He was practically giving his stuff away and she hadn’t even had to try and convince him! All she had to do now was take a small helping of…wait a minute. It had all been much too easy. And his words that she’d know exactly where everything went?   
  
“What could you possibly mean by that, Professor?”  
  
Snape glided over to her, his robes gracing the floor every now and then. She shrunk back, her spine to the cold door of his classroom. It slammed shut behind her and she gasped in surprise. Suddenly Snape was directly in front of her, a mere few inches. He bent down until they were almost nose to nose, and his arms shot out over her shoulder’s as he held the door behind her, shut with his palms.  
  
“I know it was you, Miss Granger,” Snape said gently, and Hermione would have almost preferred if he were to yell. When he talked like this, low and dark, she could easily imagine him as a Deatheater and it made her uneasy.   
  
“What?” Hermione said, feigning ignorance. Snape chuckled, or assumed that that dark and throaty sound at the back of his throat was a chuckle. He tsked a moment, and looked to her from behind hooded eyes.   
  
“Miss Granger, you must think me stupid if you don’t suspect I know it was you who snuck into my private stores only days ago. Need I remind you of the unfortunate Chamber of Secrets ordeal?”  
  
No. He didn’t.  
  
“You never had any proof then, and you don’t now,” Hermione said defiantly then stopped her cockiness when she saw his sneer form in that usual evil way of his. Snape was still looking down at her with a contemptuous look mixed with what she believed to be thoughtfulness.  
  
The only sound was his breathing as it brushed against her cheeks; he was just that dangerously close. His breath was soft and warm, and she tried not to look at him too much, as she was feeling considerably warmer under her cloak.   
  
Suddenly he broke away from the door and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. He went behind his desk and motioned for her to exit.   
  
“Get out, Granger.”


	6. Some talks

Sirius Black merrily wandered down the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, humming to himself and grinning like a fool. He didn’t know why, but he had really wanted to see Severus.  And after being in the man’s presence he felt almost giddy.

“ _Severus_ ,” he said absently to himself, “ _Severus Severus Severus_ ”  
  
No, Black reasoned with a raised eyebrow, he hadn’t just wanted to see him, he had wanted to see _all_ of him. He had wanted to pull Severus Snape against him and do all a manner of things that were currently causing him to blush.   
  
But he had seen that tremor of distaste and hatred pass his sallow face and Black had for once been at a loss for words. He had left airily, his heart pounding as he imagined Snape alone in the Potions room, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he sighed wearily while marking test papers. It was all too delicious to imagine at leisure. Those lean fingers wrapped around the quill. Black bit his lower lip as he imagined those fingers wrapped around his…

 _No. He doesn’t fancy me._  
  
He was miserable and hurt that the famed Potions master had turned him away so quickly. Although it did make sense as he had been busy, and Sirius couldn’t help but accent that granted their history, Snape would not be seeing him in a positive light.   
  
At this sudden moment he really wished James hadn’t done what he did to Snape, no matter what Snape had done he was still a vulnerable young boy, with his pride shattered as he hung upside down with his graying underwear for all to see.

“Not just that,” Sirius said aloud to himself, “the Shrieking Shack incident.”  
  
He sighed as he recalled the many follies and idiotic things he and the others had done in their youth. At least Lupin had been above it even as a teenager, but now Sirius was wishing desperately to go back and time and erase what he had done.   
  
“If only I hadn’t been such a prick,” Sirius said softly to no one in particular, “he wouldn’t hate me so much. He was all alone save for Lily on occasion, and all we could do was torment the poor boy.”  
  
Hot tears pricked the back of his eyes and he blinked them back harshly. Suddenly Sirius got the feeling someone was watching him, and true to instincts a small figure of a girl emerged bathed in the moonlight shining from the random windows.  
  
“Hello Hermione,” Black said sweetly smiling to her, “Out past curfew?”  
  
“You’re taking points from me?” Hermione said in shock.  
  
Hermione looked to Black worried, but his eyes went into half moons as he laughed uproariously. “Who do you think I am, Snape?”  
  
“Snape? Who mentioned Snape?” Hermione said suspiciously, watching his face go ashen. He shrugged airily and continued walking with her alongside him.  
  
“I just thought of the professor most likely to take points,” Black said hastily, although inside it killed him to utter those words. Funny how it hadn’t before.  
  
“Then, it would be safe to assume you don’t really like him?” Hermione was saying slowly as to halt any confusion.   
  
Black’s eyes widened as he shrugged, “I suppose. What is with this barrage of questioning about Snape and I, Hermione?”  
  
Black tried to hold back a smirk as he uttered the phrase ‘Snape and I’. Hermione took his deference into careful consideration. Perhaps the potion really hadn’t worked out at all! She smiled widely and shrugged, now wondering what to say in answer to his query.  But suddenly Sirius had puffed out his chest, his eyes glancing over the girl in concern.   
  
“Do you fancy him, Hermione?” Black said suddenly, his dark eyes narrowing on Hermione. Jealously surged into his eyes and Hermione could most certainly tell. His stance was rigid and awaiting her answer.  “He is your professor after all. It would be most inappropriate.”

Damn, the Potion that was still coursing through him, Hermione observed deflated. All she wanted was for Black to like HER. NOT SNAPE!  Plus the thought of fancying Severus Snape of all people was causing a small laugh to bubble in her chest.   
  
“Me? Fancy _Snape_?  You must be joking!”

Black seemed to soften, and his gaze stopped being so penetrating. “Yes. I suppose it would be. The man’s is your professor after all. Plus, what would you have to talk about? The man’s a genius.”  
  
Hermione stopped, as Black trailed off, looking wistfully off into the distance.  Her pride suddenly felt very much in question and she glared openly at Sirius. “What makes you think I couldn’t be at level with professor Snape’s intelligence?  Rest assured I am no genius, but I am fairly educated.”   
  
Black shrugged, “why does it matter? You said you didn’t fancy him.”  
  
Hermione nodded, her cheeks starting to pink as she walked faster, waving to Black and making her way to the Gryffindor Tower. Moments later she collapsed onto her bed, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to stop her beating heart.

_________________________________________  
  
“Well I saw Professor Black,” Snape mimicked in a high pitched voice as he imitated Hermione, marking papers in his dark dungeon. “Should I help him as my detention?”  
  
His voice lowered to its usual deep timber as he added, “foolish girl.”   
  
God he couldn’t stand it when women were like that. Stupid girls acting all giddy when moderately an attractive man waltzes in. What absolute rubbish. She was so brilliant with everything but men. She was the picture of naïveté. Thinking she could win Black over with gentle smiles and absent compliments.   
  
Black was a man who wanted a woman, a tough and demanding woman. All of a matter of things that Hermione Granger was not. Only she didn’t seem to notice that. Snape continued marking the essays, his gaze locking on the scrawled paper in front of him that had made him think of her in the first place. Hermione Granger’s paper, an Outstanding as usual. He frowned deeply and scribbled “Acceptable” at the top aggressively.

The sound of a gentle knock sounded at his door.

“Am I to be harassed this entire night?” Snape hissed to himself, watching as the head of Gryffindor stepped into his chilly classroom.   
  
“Minerva,” he said trying to be intimidating, “what the cause of this interruption?”  
  
Normally McGonagall would have frowned and given him a stern lecture on respect to which he would have rolled his eyes throughout. But tonight the man looked shattered and out of sorts. She felt her thin lips curve into a small smile and she spoke gently.  
  
“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, Severus, but there is a matter of Professor Black.”  
  
Snape stiffened as he sat at his desk, his dark eyes sliding to McGonagall.  Professor? Would every imbecile who participated in the war be called professor?   
  
“What matter would that be?”   
  
“Oh please, Severus,” Minerva said exasperatedly now, “you’ve been unnaturally cruel to him since he started in September. I suggest that you try to be at least a bit more civil. You must set an example for the students of Hogwarts.”  
  
Snape’s oily glare didn’t move. Minerva who raised a light eyebrow in response, finally observed that through clenched teeth Severus spoke.  
  
“Can you recall any time that I have been unnaturally rude to _Professor_ Black?”  
  
McGonagall rolled her eyes emphatically and nodded slightly, much to the chagrin of Snape.   
“This evening at dinner? When Miss Granger and he were speaking and you immediately interrupted and he was left ignored? And when he did try to be kind and start a conversation all through dinner you were blatantly rude to him?”  
  
Snape was leaning back in his chair, his face hidden in shadow, “you were spying on me?”  
  
She didn’t answer this question, but continued, “And I just ran into him in the hallway just now looking devestated. He says you were extremely rude to him.”   
  
Snape sighed, his arms crossed in front of him. “Oh please Minerva, are you telling me a grown man can’t take a little discomfort? Merlin knows he and blessed James Potter had no problem making my daily life a misery.  I told him to leave my chambers as I was busy marking papers.”

“Busy giving your students unfair grades I see,” Minerva frowned, looking to see Hermione receiving an underwhelming score on her latest paper.   
  
Snape sneered angrily at her accusation, “If that is all, I request you leave. I am very busy,” he hissed venomously. McGonagall nodded and turned to leave, forever feeling like the young man’s mother.  
  
“Severus,try to be a little kinder to Black.”  
  
“You know I won’t be,” Snape answered sullenly, his hands busy as he continued to mark more papers. McGonagall nodded, and tried not to sigh too heavily.   
  
“I expected as much.”


	7. A bit of a bite

_Black caressed her cheek gently, his dark eyes sparkling as he encased her upturned mouth. He placed upon it a gentle kiss, slowly prodding her lips apart and begging for entrance with his tongue, which she of course granted with no question.  
  
__“_ _Hermione,” he cooed as she grinned to him dreamily,_ _“_ _I_ _’_ _ve waited so long for this._ _”_ _  
  
The air was warm and the two of them stood melting into one another. They were alone and only the scent of roses from the garden and the dew from grass that was now on Hermione_ _’_ _s back indicated the season.  
  
She sighed contentedly as his hands traveled down her sides, he was atop of her now, the buttons of his cloak undone, and slowly loosening her necktie. His thick hair tickled her collarbone as he gently kissed her neck, as she looked to the sky in utter rapture as his rugged face disappeared.  
  
She felt the fumbling of her school robe as she shrugged out of it. Her eyes fluttered as his hand trailed down the center of her cleavage and under her school shirt. She moaned a bit, anticipating what was to come next. She heard as he pushed her shirt up a bit and kissed her bare stomach tenderly and she gripped the grass around her for support as she felt his weight on her again.  
  
Her eyes opened as two familiar black, dark tunnel-like eyes came into view, tenderly looking down at her. These were not the eyes of Sirius Black. This was the face of her feared Potions Professor. But she lifted one hand to the back of his neck and pulled his eager pale lips to her_ _own._ _  
  
She felt his tongue now, hot and orderly as it slid into her mouth with snakelike easis his hands traveled down her front, with careful but quick precision her shirt was off and she lay topless in front of him on the grass. His lean frame weighed deliciously atop her, her nipples crinkling as the air hit them.  He eyed her hungrily and brought a vicious mouth to her breast as she squirmed out of delight. He sucked and nipped until it was to his liking, then began the same with the other.  
  
She moaned and writhed as he touched her all over, his eyes taking in her mouth as they engulfed hers once more in another scorching kiss. His hand trailed down to her thighs, which she felt tremor as one lean hand went up her skirt and_ _-_  
  
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”  
  
Hermione gasped raggedly as she woke up in a hot sweat, as a trickle trailed itself down her back under her nightshirt she shivered involuntarily. It had been a good week since the horrible Black disaster, and her dreams were becoming more and more strange as the days passed.  
  
The main problem was she had _liked_ it. She’d _enjoyed_ the dream!

  _Have I gone mad?_  
  
She stood, shaking her head to clear it and glanced out the window. Almost time for breakfast. She stretched and ran a hot shower for herself, climbing in and washing her hair as she tried not to think of Snape’s torrid touches and incredibly sexy lips that-  
  
_Enough._  
  
He was her older,  bitter, miserable, ex DeathEater teacher. This could not be a good combination.  Why stupid Severus Snape? At the time when she wanted to feel Black all over, why did Snape’s face appear in her subconscious? She sighed, and washed the soap from her hair, her eyes closed as the drops of water hit her eyelids in an almost soothing fashion.  
  
_A rose garden?_ Hermione wondered absently to herself, laughing aloud as she recalled the dream, _How odd._

  _Not as odd as Snape being your lover_ her mind taunted as Hermione tried to ignore it. She got dressed, her hair dried as she pulled on her shoes.  
  
She walked to the Great Hall, her mind still on the very vivid dream of herself and Black and Snape. That strange little threesome that had her mind whirring and her panties dampening. How truly odd. But, Hermione steeled herself in focus; she decided there were much more pressing matters at hand.  
  
Mainly; how was she to steal from Snape’s private storage again without being caught and expelled? She would enlist Ron’s help, she supposed. He had managed to keep Filch busy the time before. And secondly – why should she even help Snape? If he was to be hounded by Black’s admiration for a year didn’t he deserve it?

 

_No. You’re just trying to avoid it getting caught. You know how cruel that would be for the both of them._

  
“True,” She agreed aloud, nodding to herself. She did indeed feel extremely guilty for what she had done to poor Snape and Black. If only she hadn’t been so selfish. If only she hadn’t been so single minded.  
  
“Talking to yourself Granger?” said a silky voice, “I assume it was only person you could find that would listen?”  
  
Hermione’s stomach dropped as she whirled around, her eyes trying to remain aloof but her breath stopped as she saw him. At any normal time she would have been unnaturally irritated to see him, finding him rude and bothersome and rather unappealing. For bothering her when she was in such deep though. But after last night, she was just plain terrified and simultaneously aroused. He had seemed so not in control of himself in that dream.

_Stop thinking about the dream._  
  
“Oh, hello Professor,” she said scratchily as she backed away from him. He smirked as he saw her back away slowly, viewing as the girl’s cheeks turned a slight tinge of pink.  
  
“What’s the matter Miss Granger?” he asked devilishly, enjoying her discomfort. “Afraid I’ll bite?”  
  
Hermione’s eyes widened in shock at this comment, and as her nipples hardened instantly, winced at their contact with her shirt material as she recalled her latest dream. She bit back the whimper that was caught in her throat.  
  
“What?” Snape asked almost in a hissing tone, “you think I don’t hear the childrens’ stories of my being a vampire?” he chuckled lowly, stepping closer to her.  She didn’t move, but her jaw dropped slightly as she looked to those powerful lips of his. She was still entranced with them as they uttered the words;  
  
“What are you looking at, Granger?”  
  
Hermione didn’t answer, her eyes drooping ever so slightly as he spoke. His eyebrow rising in confusion as he tilted his head to the side a bit and said with harsh clarity, “are you ill, Miss Granger?”  
  
Hermione finally snapped out of her momentary hypnosis and straightened out. She flashed a momentary wave in his direction and left with a hushed goodbye. Snape watched her disappear into the Hall and smirked to himself.  
  
“Silly swot.”

***  
  
Black’s eyes wandered to the door as it opened quickly. _Ah Hermione. Sweet girl_. She looked to him peculiarly as she entered and gave him a short wave with he responded to with a hearty nod.  
  
Suddenly his breath came in short bursts because of the figure who entered, shortly after Hermione. He frowned as he noticed Severus smirking at Hermione’s slumping frame as she made herself to her table.  
  
Black watched as Snape came up the head table and he saw him grimace as he saw that he would have to pass Black in order to reach his seat. Sirius tried to quell the excitement building in his abdomen, praying that his excitement wouldn’t show.  
  
Snape had momentarily considered leaving, forgetting breakfast, but that would only arouse unneeded suspicion. He sighed and moved past Black, and groaning inwardly as he was an involuntary witness to Black’s sigh of delight.

“Good morning Severus.”  
  
Snape squirmed past as he tried not to have any physical contact with Black who was putting on a brilliant show of eating his breakfast while trying to brush up against Snape.  Snape grimaced even futher as he made his way to his seat, still truly confused at Black’s actions. What was the man doing?  Another strange prank? See if he could make him so uncomfortable he stopped eating in the great hall.

_I’ll show him. He won’t push me out of my own school._  
   
He sat a few seats away from Black, sure not to meet his eyes. Black glanced over at him with a saccharine smile and Snape decided he’d rather eat fast and leave then just leave full stop. Minerva frowned as he poured himself a cup of tea hurriedly before loading his plate and trying desperately to eat faster than Black.  Sausages piled in his cheeks and syrup ran down his chin. He wiped at it quickly with a napkin and went back to inhaling the delicious food in front of him.  
  
“Goodness Snape,” Minerva said from beside him, “try to breathe in between bites. You’re acting like a pig.”  
  
Snape was about to give some smart-ass reply, but this was hindered with the large amount of food in his mouth, and Hermione’s sudden appearance in front of him. His dark eyes drew over to her nervous form and he instantly regretted the last banger that was halfway down his throat, causing him to cough.

  
“Professor Snape?” she asked hesitantly, not realizing until now he had been stuffing his face with food. His puffed cheeks suddenly deflated as he swallowed painfully. Hermione took this all in and had the good sense to not make a comment about it.  
  
“What is it Granger?”  
  
Hermione tried to control her inner giggling before speaking again but her dancing eyes gave her away.  
  
“I was wondering if I could have a word with you. After Potions class today, if you don’t have prior obligations.”  
  
Snape was about to say something cruel and heartless and try to turn her off of ever speaking to him outside of class, but felt Minerva’s stern glance washing over him. He recalled her warning about being kind from last night and he internally sighed. Even though Minerva wasn’t his boss, Dumbledore most certainly was and Minerva seemed to have Dumbledor around her own gnarled pinky finger.  
  
“I don’t believe I have another engagement this afternoon, Miss Granger,” he muttered miserably sullen. After a beat McGonagal started a conversation with Sprout on her right and Snape acted quickly. His face inched forward and his voice lowered to a whisper as he spoke in a flurry of distaste to her.  “But I assure you Miss Granger, if this is anything that I deem to be a waste of my time, you will suffer the repercussions.”  
  
Hermione forced a confident smile on her features and thanked him for his time, before looking to Black and shying under his angry gaze. His eyebrows furrowed as he had witnessed her conversation with Snape.  Snape continued eating sullenly, humiliated that he had been so easy to bend. Surely there must be other teaching positions elsewhere.  
  
There was a light tap on his shoulder as he waved it away, imagining it to be a bug of some sort and continued eating without even turning around. Moments later the incessant tapping was back and Snape whirled his head around, knowing now for certain that it wasn’t a bug. It was a dog.  
  
“What?” he hissed even before even glancing at the intruder of his personal space.  
  
“Hello Severus,” Sirius said standing behind him. Snape looked to his wringing hands in confusion, usually the man was calm and collected, now he wasn’t even meeting Snape’s cold eyes as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “I was uh, well, wondering if-“  
  
Snape cut him off with a wave of a long, pale hand. “Do not stammer and stutter away-“ his voice trailed off as Minerva’s eyes met his from a few meters away. Snape turned his mouth into a thin scowl and looked back to Black.  “What can I help you with, Black?”  
  
“You can call me Sirius,” Black said breathlessly, his eyes finally resting on Snape’s. “I was just wondering if you’d like to come to my quarters for tea this evening. Or if you have other ideas, I I mean I wouldn’t mind...I suppose a game of wizard chess or, just in general spending time together might be, well, erm, nice.”  
  
What the-? What was this man still stammering about? Spending time with him? Snape was wondering this to himself, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Black kept babbling.  
  
_He_ _’_ _s trying to make me nervous in my own school.  That_ _’_ _s what he_ _’_ _s been doing all along. Trying to sneak his way into my affections while he plots a way to humiliate me again._ _Well, I am not to be toyed with. If he wants time spent with me, then fine. He_ _’ll get it._

Suddenly his pale hand raised between them and silenced Black. Black took in his strong jaw and full lips. Snape’s oily eyes flew up to Sirius’s eyes and narrowed on Black’s dreamy and unwavering gaze.  
  
“Fine then, Black,” Snape said viciously, “My chambers at 8 o’clock tonight. You can assist me in a potion you know well about.”  
  
Black look confused, his smile faltered a bit but he nodded slowly, “Alright. 8 o’clock it is.”  
  
He almost skipped off; his dark hair shining in the light from the window’s above. God how Severus envied that hair. So silken it would seem to touch. He sighed enviously, looking at his own greasy locks that hung in his eye range.  
  
He finished his meal quietly and smirked as he imagined the horrors that would befall idiotic Sirius Black tonight; he stood and walked down the aisles not noticing Hermione who had witness the whole exchange between he and Black with a concerned look in her large brown eyes.  
  
---  
  
 

 


	8. Desperate TImes

Hermione was steeling herself as she walked to her next class, Defense against the Dark Arts. She had witnessed the conversation between Snape and Black minutes prior and her mind now raced as she considered what she would have to do.

_How can I fix this?_

 She had already requested to see Snape after class today; Ron was to create a diversion and allow her ample time to steal from Snape’s storage. She knew it was a simple plan, but she was desperate.

But now, dammit, Snape had agreed to let Black assist him in potion making! Damn that Sirius Black! Now, she would have to come up with some other plan of action for tonight. And as bright as she was, Hermione was having a hard time trying to make up more lies. Lying had never been her strong suit. She ducked into her classroom, still contemplating what to do tonight, looking miserable.  
  
Black however was almost _skipping_ towards his Defense Class, his smile wide on his handsome, rugged face. He hummed a little tune to himself, as the door swung open.  
  
“Good morning class,” he said cheerily. He glanced at Hermione and she smiled to him with a small pink crossing her cheeks. This may be a horrendous situation she’d gotten them in, but why should she waste any affections thrown her way by the indomitable Sirius Black? She decided that she might as well try to soak up as much of his good demeanor and handsome face.  
  
“ _Good morning Professor Black_ ,” rang the class out politely.  
  
Hermione sat straight up in her seat, trying to catch his eye more fully, which she eventually did. But instead of shining his smile on her, his face immediately fell and he forced a small smile onto thin lips.  
  
She felt her own smile falter as he turned from her and began to teach the class about charms that would render its victims void of all muscular functions.  
  
Hermione dutifully took notes and shot angry looks at Harry and Ron across the room when she spotted that they were playing paper football in their seat near the back. They shrugged, grinned and went on playing and Hermione felt her heart sink at their carefree attitude.

 _I’ve been a terrible friend._  
  
Should she tell Harry all that was happening? Would he hate her for it? Trying to trick his godfather into lustful thinking for a student? And for it being permanent? She needed to make the antidote for the potion she had concocted, maybe Ron could… Suddenly her eyes went alight and she felt herself grin madly and almost jump out of her seat. Yes, Ron would be a perfect help. The only problem was convincing him.  
  
***  
  
  
“NO NO NO!,” Ron said exasperatedly, “I REFUSE HERMIONE!”

  
It was almost four o’clock and Hermione and Ron were sitting in an empty classroom, Ron listening intently as she spoke. He looked completely horrified with his friend’s latest suggestion, pacing back and forth before Hermione seated primly on a stool.  
  
“You _have_ to help me Ron,” she said hollowly, “I _need_ your help.”  
  
Ron felt his chest swell with pride at this one. But, still what she was asking him to do was ludicrous. His gaze wavered as he saw her eyes deaden and then fill with tears. He sighed heavily.  
  
“Fine. Explain the plan to me again.”  
  
Hermione sat down, her chest heaving as she began to breathe normally again, a smile began on her weary face.  
  
“Thank you, Ron.”  
  
He nodded and waved his hand as if it were nothing. Hermione went on, her eyes slipping back and forth as she seemed to read a piece of parchment in her head.  
  
“I spray you with the same spray I did Black. You fall in lust with me, and then I go to Snape and tell him that I cast the spell on YOU, and that now _you_ _’_ _re_ in lust with me and I need an antidote.”  
  
Ron nodded as Hermione continued,  “So Snape will hopefully just give me detention, and then he’ll whip up a potion to fix all of this. I give some to you, and when no one’s looking, I’ll give it to Black.”  
  
Ron nodded, “Well, that’s a good plan Hermione. But what about the supplies you stole. He’ll know it was you that took them.”  
  
Hermione nodded, she had thought of this already, “I’ll just say I bought them in Hogsmeade. He’ll be more angry that I did some stupid potion rather than his stupid storage. But if he doesn’t believe me, oh well. It’s my own fault for doing something so stupid in the first place.”

Hermione’s head sunk into her chest, humiliated at her lack of foresight in this. She had been so desperate for Black’s attention, so needy for his affection. She had felt so broken since the war and when Black looked at her. . . She felt different. She felt more alive than she had in so very long.

  
Ron shrugged, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to try something else? Try to do it yourself? What if you get expelled?”  
  
Hermione shook her head, “It’s too complex a potion for even me, Ron,” she said this flinching as she hated to admit anything was too much for her. “Ron, you understand this is merely for scientific purposes? And if I say mean things or do anything to hurt you, it’s for this specific reason? And that you must NEVER speak of this to anyone?”  
  
Ron nodded emphatically,  “I understand Hermione,” he said gently, “I don’t want you to get expelled.”  
  
Hermione nodded as a stray tear fell down her cheek, Ron went to brush it away but she rubbed below her eye harshly, forcing a smile and a short laugh.  
  
“I’m just so scared, Ron,” Ron nodded as she continued. “I wish I hadn’t done something so stupid in the first place.”

Ron pulled her into a friendly embrace, patting her hair softly. “Well, let’s get this over with.”  
  
Hermione nodded and pulled the vial from her pocket. Ron gulped nervously and looked to Hermione; she smiled a weak and thankful smile and pressed the nozzle down. Ron’s eyes squeezed shut and he felt a tingling almost warm wave fall over him, he smiled dreamily as he opened his eyes slowly.  
  
Hermione’s dark eyes looked worriedly to him he saw first, and then she saw his blue eyes twinkle. He smiled wistfully. He saw her lips so tantalizing, her lashes framing her dancing eyes and her hair falling in loose waves around her face.  
  
“You look stunning.”  
  
Hermione on instinct was about to say something shyly like; “But Ron, I’m just wearing school clothes” but remembered the reason he was here.  
  
She stood as did he, “Ready Ron?” she said nervously as Ron kept a soft gaze on her, and nodded. She walked a bit ahead of him as he trailed beside her, trying to hold her hand.  
  
“Ron. Please. Remember the plan.”

  
***

They stood outside of Snape’s chambers moments later, shivering already, as it was so cold they could see their breath.

Hermione raised her hand, and took a deep breath but before she could knock the door swung open. Snape’s eyes beadily looked to her.

  
“You’re late.”  
  
Hermione was about to disagree, but remembered she was here to implore him for his assistance. She nodded and was about to walk in when Snape held up a hand and raised a questioning eyebrow.  
  
“What is _he_ doing here?” Snape asked looking to Ron as a bug. Ron didn’t notice, he was too busy gazing at Hermione with a look of naked desire.  
  
“Oh, he’s the reason I need to speak with you,” Hermione said looking around, making doubly sure they were alone. “May we come in, to speak in private?”  
  
Snape sighed wearily and then reluctantly stepped aside, Ron went in first, looking for Hermione to follow, but Snape had dragged her aside as he shut the door. His fingers dug into her soft arm, and she immediately tried to pull away, but to no avail.  
  
“I don’t know what this is, Granger,” he hissed dangerously and Hermione felt her gaze lower onto his lips before he shook her arm and she felt her eyes lock with his. “If I find this to be a prank of any-“  
  
“No sir,” she shot in before he could finish, “I’m here because I desperately need your help.”  
  
“Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting,” Snape spat as he let go of her arm. He looked down at her from his height, his arms crossed over his chest. “You better not be pulling anything Granger, because I guarantee you will regret it.”  
  
Ron was looking at Hermione strangely and Snape glared at him. “First of all. You leave.” He said pointing to the large door, Ron looked to a nodding Hermione and obliged silently.  
  
“Follow me,” Snape snapped as the door shut, whipping around with his cloaks falling behind him, and made his way to the front of the class. “Don’t touch anything.”  
  
He sat at his desk ordering them to stand in front of his desk, “Well. Why the waste of my valuable time?”  
  
Hermione bit her lip before speaking, as she wanted so desperately to tell him off.  To explain if he hadn’t butted his big nose into things, she wouldn’t be here in the first place. But no, that would not do at all.  She bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully before finally speaking with a tone of absolute respect.  
  
“Professor Snape I’ve come to you because I gave Ron a lust potion, and found its permanent. I need to make the antidote to reverse it, but I can’t, it’s too…” she trailed off, not wanting to say.  
  
“Go on,” Snape said eagerly, a small smirk forming on those lips of his as he leaned forward over his desk, “It’s too what? _Complex_ for you Miss Granger?”  
  
Hermione nodded, wincing at his words. Snape leaned back casually now, surveying her from half-shuttered eyes. He looked at her reticent frame and decided to draw out the anguish he could see radiating from her. The foolish girl had made a lust potion on Weasley?  The thought was laughable!  
  
“I don’t know if I should help you Granger,” Snape said devilishly, “Although the thought of you and Weasely outside of class with his hormones raging does make me ill, I don’t have to help you. In fact for a know-it-all like you, this may be good medicine.”  
  
Hermione felt her knees go weak, Snape continued with that hypnotizing tone of his and she felt compelled to listen. He gazed at her with careful scrutiny; she didn’t seem to notice this until he spoke once more.  
  
“However, as a teacher here, I feel compelled to oblige,” he said slowly, as Hermione’s heart leapt. He saw her delight and scowled “But first. I want you to admit one thing.”  
  
Hermione stopped a moment, her heart beating. What was he going to say? Finally he spoke again.  
  
“I want you to say; _I am an insufferable know-it-all_.”  
  
Hermione looked to him incredulously and he smirked again, flicking an eyebrow up and down in a way that was almost seductive, he however was not meaning to be seductive of course. He wanted her to say something so trivial because her pride would be lost along the way.  
  
He leaned back, his arms crossed as he waited for her to say the words. Finally, the little know it all would admit the words he had been wanting to hear for the past seven years of personal hell she had put him through. Minutes ticked by, as Snape looked increasingly bored.  
  
“You’re wasting valuable time, Miss Granger,” Snape said crisply, glancing to his pocket watch. “I’m quite busy, so if you-“  
  
Hermione spoke softly at first, and rapidly until Snape told her to start again loudly and clearly. Hermione turned red and looked at him with anger clearly shown in her flashing eyes. She lowered them to the floor and began again.  
  
"I'm an-"  
  
“Look at me when you say it,” he interjected silkily, smirking and loving every minute she squirmed. She finally drew a long and ragged breath and found her gaze moving up from his steepled hands up to his glittering eyes.  
  
“I’m an insufferable know-it-all.”  
  
Snape nodded, seemingly pleased, and then his smirk was gone. “As well as that, Miss Granger. You will serve a month’s detention and fifty points from Gryffindor will be deducted for use of a lust potion on a fellow student.”  
  
Hermione nodded, she had seen those coming. “When will the Potion be ready Professor?”  
  
Snape looked to her with a strange gleam in his eyes.

***  
  
Black slipped another mint into his mouth, and smoothing down his unruly dark hair. He had shaved and worn his best cloak.  He’d also sprayed some cologne on his neck and was feeling quite confident as he strolled down the corridors of Hogwarts on his way to the dungeon.  
  
He seemed oblivious to all the whispering and catcalls coming from around him as he strode to Snape’s dungeon, his mind soley on the pale professor who had captured his thoughts and desires.  
  
Severus hadn’t been at dinner that night along with Hermione. Ron had looked absolutely miserable as he spoke to Harry who looked utterly baffled.  
  
His heart raced as he anticipated his stolen moments with Severus, doing some potion they could do together, the mere thought of Severus all hot and bothered over a potion made Black electric all over.  
  
But a potion he knew about already? How utterly confusing. He didn’t know anything about Potions. He smiled, breathing deeply and swung the door to Snape’s chamber open and gasped in horror.


	9. Denial

“Ah, Black,” Snape said smoothly as Black looked to Hermione as if she were a large bug. “I’m in an unexpected bind as it is right now. We’ll have to meet another time. Perhaps next week.”  
  
Black looked to Hermione and Snape side by side, standing beside a large cauldron. They looked like they had been working for several hours. Probably had been and he felt a whisper of jealousy flood through him.  
  
“Hello Professor Black,” Hermione said quietly and uncertainly looking from him to Snape, who was intently gazing at the bubbling potion from below them.  
  
Black didn’t know whether to cry or scream at Hermione for being there. She was here STEALING his time with Snape! He spoke almost growling, to a quizzical Snape  
  
“So sorry to interrupt _Severus_ ,” he said looking at Hermione smarmily, as if to say; _I can call him Severus_ _can you?_ “Could I get you anything while you work? A tea or coffee perhaps?”

“No.”

 Black felt the wind go out of his sails now as he looked to Hermione and Snape all cozy and making a bubbling potion together.

Hermione however was still wondering why Snape had invited Black to do anything with him. Snape certainly hadn’t been that eager to help her in the first place. Forcing her to assist him, it was almost torture in itself. And now he was so sweet and nice to Black? She was almost jealous.  
  
“What’s that?” Black asked curiously, looking at the potion and insinuating himself between them. Hermione looked like she was to faint, and Black assumed it was guilt from trying to steal Snape from under his nose.  
  
“It’s to reverse a Lust Potion,” Snape answered rapidly walking around and getting various ingredients and adding them as Hermione stirred the concoction rapidly, the sweat pouring off of her. Des  
  
“Well, could I help?” Black asked gently. Hermione looked to him surprised. He decided to be tactful and looked to Snape casually. “I mean, so Hermione could take a break. It seems the potion needs to be stirred regularly.”  
  
“Yes, all the time it’s being made,” Snape said absently looking to Hermione brushing her damp hair from her eyes, then dragged his eyes reluctantly to meet Black’s. “Are you sure?”  
  
Black didn’t answer, but scowled at Hermione surreptitiously and took the ladle from her, nudging her behind him as he looked back to Snape. Hermione was thankful for the reprieve but at the same time, terrified to leave them alone together.  
  
An hour later Snape informed them that they had to conclude for the evening, casting a stasis charm on the cauldron before he  began writing on some parchment. Hermione smoothed her robes and headed for the door.  
  
“I’ll see you on Thursday of next week, Miss Granger. Eight o’clock sharp,”  Snape said absently, marking something on a piece of parchment. Black’s eyes narrowed on a now rigid Hermione, as she ducked out the door, slamming it by accident.  
  
“That girl will be the death of me,” although he said the words without mirth Black couldn’t help but notice the small smirk that had crept onto Snape’s pale lips.  
  
“You’ re seeing her, Thursday?” Black asked casually, fuming inwardly that she had caused him to almost smile. “Why are you meeting again?”  
  
Snape looked to him with questioning in his eyes. “As her Potions teacher I am obligated to help her in a certain, predicament,” he flinched as he added, “if you find yourself with extra time Black, you may help next week as well.”  
  
“But, you hate her,” Black blurted out hastily, then stammering as Snape pulled his gaze from his paper and narrowed it on Black.  “Er, I mean. You always say how your time is so valuable, I suppose I’m just wondering why you’d spend your free time with a know-it-all Gryffindor.”  
  
Snape looked up to Black exasperated and a bit confused “The Potion takes several months to create. During certain times it has to be added to, stirred and more. It’s a large job and as I said before, I’m obligated.”

 He looked to Black darkly, his lips pursing in thought,  “and since when do you call Miss Granger a know-it-all Gryffindor? Your own godson is one.”  
  
Black felt his collar tighten as Snape stood staring at him with those dark black orbs boring into him, with those powerful arms crossed over his chest. A chest that had become muscular he imagined, not at all like the skinny little git they had picked on so often.  
  
_His mind went fleetingly to their seventh year, when he and James had jumped Snape in the washroom, washing his pale hands and glaring at his own reflection in the mirror. Then James and he had come from nowhere and were suddenly beside him, as he turned suddenly with wand poised as if he’d been expecting it. Poor boy, always living in fear._  
  
_He grimaced as he recalled helping James shove Snape’s head into an empty toilet, flushing until the poor git started screaming and trying to hex them, his wand waving all over the place. They had backed away, as he kneeled sputtering and calling them every name imaginable._  
  
_They had laughed uproariously, slapping each other high fives and slipping the invisibility cloak over their head before rushing back to their back seats of their Defense against the Dark Arts class. Their books still raised as if they had been behind them the whole time. No one had noticed their sudden disappearance or reappearance._  
  
_Snape had bounded in moments later with Dumbledore in tow. Severus’ upper body was soaked with his dark hair all disarray, some parts sticking up with his pale face shining wet with water. James and Sirius had tried so hard to keep their faces straight._  
  
_Lily had looked to him sorrowfully, glaring at James and Black before going back to her books. Snape had let his gaze fall on her a moment, before his face hardened again and he started frantically screaming and pointing at James and Black._  
  
_“THEY WERE THE ONES!” He screamed, his face turning into a horribly angry sneer, “THEY WERE THE ONES WHO JUMPED ME IN THE LAVATORY!”_  
  
_Dumbledore, had looked at James and Black disapprovingly, but he couldn’t assume it was their fault. Severus and the Marauders were pulling pranks of increasing escalation the entire year. To blame one and not the other was tricky; more often than not they were both to blame._  
  
_“Did you do this to Severus Mister Potter? Mister Black?”_

  
 _“No Headmaster, we’ve been in class the whole time,” James said innocently, looking every inch the  Head Boy that he was. ”Ask anyone here.”_  
  
_The class nodded .save for Lily whose face was still buried behind her book. She refused to help Snape after last year’s horror, but she also wasn’t going to run to James’ aid either. He had a lot of growing up to do._  
  
_Professor Benson, the current DADA teacher at the time shrugged her narrow shoulders, “as far as I know, Headmaster, they’ve been here the whole time.”_  
  
_“Yeah Snivellus, we’ve been here the whole time,” Black had said haughtily, surreptitiously smiling at James and then winking at Snape when the old Headmaster’s back was turned.  “We’d never do such a thing.”_  
  
_“YOU DID SO!” Snape screamed as if posessed, his eyes wild as he glared scathingly at James and Black._  
  
_“Severus, please-“  Professor Benson had said with pity, for she knew that Snape struggled socially. She moved towards the boy with an air of concern which he moved back from immediately._  
  
_“Oh, just shut up,” Snape had said looking to the bewildered Professor. “Just shut up. I’ll have your job in less than a year anyway. So live it up while you can.”_

_Then his dark gaze had landed on James and a bemused Black, who were shaking their heads like they felt sorry for him._

_“I hate you,” was all Snape had said hissing, like the snake his house emblem bore. Then turning on one wet heel he had slammed the door behind him. The Headmaster had a few words with Professor Benson who looked near tears_.  
  
Those three venom-filled words now rang in Black’s ears as he continued to relive the horror that he had caused on the poor boy.  
  
“Well?”  
  
Black’s head cleared as he saw the man that Severus had become. Not the scared, pale, little boy they had picked on during school. Now he was a foreboding, strong, striking man that had an air of confidence he had acquired with careful deliberation. Snape rolled those dark eyes of his, gazing back to him.  
  
“Well, what are you looking at, Black?”  
  
Black suddenly grew tense, and blinked rapidly as he backed away slowly. His eyes were wide seeming to know something Snape didn’t.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Was all he said, before running out the door, leaving Snape bewildered and confused. He regretted telling Black he could come back to help. He certainly didn’t want Black’s help. He especially didn’t want a _strange_ Sirius Black around him at all but decided rudeness was not the way to get Minerva off his back.

Plus, he still had his plan.

  
***  
  
Hermione fell onto her bed, wondering why she had been so desperate for male affection in the first place. She certainly wasn’t that eager for it, was she? And why had she felt jealous of all things when Black interrupted them this evening? Why had she felt so put out at Snape’s more gentle approach with Black than she?

She realized it was her desperate need for Snape’s approval. For him to look at what she’d done and simply acknowledge that she was capable. To look at her not like an insufferable know-it-all but as a talented woman.

 _He’ll never see me as anything but an annoying girl_ , she thought glumly.  Her eyes fell on her stack of parchment, the crumpled piece of paper with Black’s name and hearts still scribbled on there. Why had she chosen Sirius Black? He was handsome, yes. But he gave her something Snape never did; respect. He had praised her mind, encouraged her questions.

They were so different and yet, strangely, Hermione couldn’t help but find them both attractive in their own right.

_Wait. Did I just think of Snape as attractive?_

Hermione laughed aloud at this perverse thought. Professor Snape? Attractive? With his sallow skin and his uneven yellowed teeth? Not to mention that horrendous grease trap he called hair!  Imagine being intimate with such a man! Kissing him! That was _really_ funny. Ha Ha Ha. She could see him recoiling in horror as he pushed her back, and with her luck, probably into a large rack of acids and she’d be permanently scarred for life. With that dark thought she brought up her parchment and began on her homework.  
  
“Woflsbane, tarantula legs,” short mutterings like this erupted from her lips as she continued working, well into midnight, where she promptly dropped the quill, packed it in her bag and swept into some pajama's.  The rest of her roommates were asleep and she quickly cast a silencing charm around her bed. No need to embarrass herself further, but seeing Black earlier tonight had made her particularly randy.  
  
Black’s face swam into her mind as she lay under the covers. She shivered and smiled as her own cold hands trailed down her hot body as she imagined him all rugged and smiling at her.  She could almost feel his warm hands all over her, as she succumbed to her own petty wants, her hands trailed further, as her back arched and she waited for the explosion. Nothing.  
  
Suddenly another face was blurring but coming into view, Black was rapidly gone and suddenly there was Snape. Snape gave her a savage and rough smirk before his tongue suddenly darted out, in a very snake-like manner, tickled one already erect nipple as she moaned, as her hands went faster and further.  
  
“No,” she murmured as the dream Snape kissed her throat now, his hands trailing down her stomach. Hermione wanted to push him from her, knowing that it was Sirius whom she had been envisioning. In the fantasy Snape stopped, giving her an imploring look. The more she tried to push him from her mind, the more the perverse thought of Snape between her legs made her so wet. Hermione suddenly felt no hindrance at this, and kissed his full lips with savage wanting.

 _This is so wrong_ , she thought as the image of his hands sliding down her thighs, _He’s so awful._ _So cruel._

“More,” Hermione rasped aloud to the clouding figure of Snape, his hands sliding near the inside of her shaking thighs. Finally his fingers dipped between her slick folds and Hermione felt her back arch at the thought.

_Potion making has made him adept with those fingers._

His fingers continued to slide and curl inside her, his thumb playing lightly against her throbbing clit. The fantasy Snape was looking down at Hermione with that traditional sneer, almost enjoying that she was humiliated at the thought of coupling with him. Horrified that her body seemed to want this degradation.

Hermione could feel the pressure building between her legs, her body twitching in desire as the fantasy man above her continued to play with her, his body grinding against hers. She felt herself slowly coming to the edge when the dream Snape pressed his lips against the shell of her ear.

_“Come for me, Miss Granger,” the fantasy Snape rasped in her ear, in that deep creamy baritone. “Come now.”_

There was the explosion she had been waiting for! Hermione’s eyes shut tightly as the pleasure fed her entire body. Her sweaty head hit the pillow roughly, her loud moans of pleasure sounding all around her, as her thighs continued bucking against her own hand for several moments.  The spasm of pure ecstasy invaded all of her and she was so thankful for that silencing charm.  
  
She was panting and gasping for air as she licked her lips, still tasting Snape on them. _No no no_ , this was all wrong. She wanted Black. A handsome, funny and sexy Sirius Black. Most definitely not a greasy, miserable and irritating Severus Snape.  
  
With that resolute thought in mind she turned onto her side and fell into a fitful slumber.


	10. A Snape in the grass

 

Black decided that the best thing to do at the moment was stay the hell away from Severus and Hermione as physically possible. Severus for the obvious reason as everytime he saw the tall, brooding Potions Master he wanted to rip off said git’s clothes and ravish him right there on the Potions desk.  
  
But, he wanted to stay away from Hermione Granger because every single time after he had been alone with her, he had seen her humanity, and always came away wondering why he hated her so much. Or why he found himself so jealous of some whisp of a girl who had given no interest in her desire for her surly professor.  In fact it was quite evident she didn’t fancy him as she always looked either scared or sick when around him; sometimes both.  
  
Snape on the other hand, was being subjected to Minerva's random jabs at his rudeness to everyone. She had come over to him in the middle of breakfast one morning as he swallowed his egg, almost choking.  
  
"What do you want?" Snape snapped, miserably. He had been having the most disturbing dreams lately that always seemed to include Sirius Black and Hermione Granger. Truly distasteful. He shuddered a bit at the memory.  
  
"I hear you've been entertaining Black in your chambers?" she said with a small smile. Snape whipped his eyes up, his cheeks burning as the rest of the professors within earshot glanced over in interest.  
  
"Please rephrase your latest comment, Minerva," he said, trying to see if any of the students had heard. "I tolerated his presence as we had been working on a potion together."

"I see," she said softly, a twinkle in her aged eye and left the table, promptly leaving his eyes trained after her.  God he hated McGonagal when she got like that. But, he couldn't feel angry at the moment, because the annoying Granger girl was stirring something in him, he couldn't quite explain. He glanced over at her then, his dark eyes drinking in her face as she sipped her morning tea.  Hermione must have felt his eyes on her as she turned to meet his gaze, sweeping past as if she hadn't noticed him.  
  
"Why's Snape looking at you?" Harry wondered aloud to her, as she shrugged, embarrassed and refrained from looking to Snape again. As it was, she was uncomfortable around him as she couldn’t stop her fantasies of him. She also couldn’t stop watching his hands when he prepared items for the potions in class.  
  
Snape looked back to his breakfast, scowling as she resumed her speech with Potter.  Hermione at the moment was still recovering from that epiphany, of sorts. Why Snape had entered her thoughts during her past night's _romp_ , was beyond her. She just assumed it was due to working with him so long in the Potions lab that night. Yes, yes that explained it.  
  
The worst of it was Ron though. She should have never used him as a guinea pig. He followed her everywhere; he tried kissing her all the time, and bought her things he simply could not afford. She felt simultaneously horrified and terribly guilty which usually resulted in her getting irritated with the poor boy.

“Hermione,” Ron said later that week as they sat studying (Ron’s idea) in the Library, “I’ve been thinking.”  
  
“I’ll alert the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Hermione had said, as she scribbled down some thoughts onto parchment, as Ron leaned on his elbow staring at her, a habit Hermione had grown grudgingly accustomed to. She squirmed under his heated gaze, feeling majorly unsettled.  
  
“I was thinking, Hermione that you should kiss me.”  
  
Hermione sighed. “Ron. I know you _think_ you want to kiss me, but rest assured that this desire is merely a side effect from a potion you were sprayed with. Remember? We’ve had this talk so many times.”  
  
Ron sighed contentedly, his free hand coming to stroking her hand absently before she recoiled in haste, and glared at him.  
  
“But, I think you should, Hermione,” Ron said gently, his blue eyes flicking around in their sockets as he tried to take all of her in. Her soft lips and her beautifully frizzy hair looking like a warm, chocolate brown blanket.

 “Or I may have to take _desperate_ actions.”  
  
Hermione snorted very unladylike at this. “What are you on about?”  
  
Ron sat up in the chair, very solemn as he spoke.

“If you don’t kiss me Hermione, I will tell Harry what you did to-“  
  
Hermione;s hand suddenly without warning slammed against Ron’s waiting lips. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”  
  
“Kighssyewu.” He mumbled, muffled under her shaking hand over his lips. She gingerly removed the palm as Ron spoke softly. “I said, kissing you.”  
  
Hermione sighed, her heart dropping as she imagined having to kiss Ron. Maybe a quick peck on the cheek would do . . . No, Hermione realized darkly, he’d insist on the lips.  
  
“You promise after this, no more? No more threats and all? You’ll not say anything after this to anyone? Especially Harry?” Hermione asked harshly, her hand lowering from his mouth. He smiled brightly and nodded emphatically.  
  
“Fine.”

 _Gods this is a nightmare._  
  
Hermione took a deep breath as she looked to Ron’s pinking and puckering lips in front of her. His eyes shut softly, as Hermione grimaced. Her lips pursed a moment  as her own eyes shut and he leaned forward a bit, waiting for Ron’s warm lips against hers. . .

“Oh c’mon Ron. Do it already.”  
  
“Intriguing,”  said a deep voice, darkly from beside her.  
  
Hermione’s head whipped around and came face to face with the prince of darkness. God, the man was an overgrown bat. Where had he come from? Hermione's heart was going like a jackhammer, as she feared he had heard the last words spoken.  
  
“Oh, hello Professor. What’s intriguing?” Hermione squeaked nervously, wringing her parchment in her hands and feeling a hideous blush creeping up her neck. Snape stood with his usual arms crossed, and a deathly scowl on his sallow face.  
  
“I find it intriguing, Miss Granger. That it is almost eight o’clock in the evening and I find you here playing kissing games with Mister Weasely.”  
  
Hermione waited for more, and Snape raised an eyebrow as if this should mean something. Hermione’s brain went in circles, and she spoke meekly; “It’s not after curf-“  
  
“Try again.”  
  
He cut her off, as Ron slowly backed away. Snape sneered at him, momentarily waving away Ron’s now blushing face.  
  
“Get out of here Weasely. _Kissing games_ will have to wait for another time.”  
  
As he spoke, his eyes were still on the quivering Hermione. Ron jumped from his seat beside Hermione and ran for the common room. Snape’s eyes were almost glittering with malice, as he spoke with a hissing-like tendency.  
  
“I said, _try again_ , Miss Granger.”  
  
Hermione felt as if she were going to cry, as she tried to imagine what she was getting in trouble for. She kept lowering her gaze, but he seemed to capture it every time it tried to dive. She at the present moment was sitting, and the most accessible thing to look at were his pants, and well, that wouldn’t do, so she had to look to his horribly dark eyes.  
  
_What could it possibly be?_ She began to think frantically, looking everywhere but his face now. He stood, contemplating what to do next.  
  
_I_ _’ve been to every class I haven_ _’t skipped anything I always do my assignments and try to answer all the questions he asks I_ _’m sure I haven_ _’t done anything wrong well unless you count the potion predicament But he got back at me with_ _. . ._  
  
Her eyes widened as she looked to his nodding face, yes. He knew she knew. She offered a feeble shrug, and tried to smile but failed.  
  
“Detention?”  
  
“Hmmm, very good Miss Granger,”  Snape said walking around the sides of her chair. The Library was almost empty and she swallowed for fear of what was to come next.  “I can see why you were made Head Girl with astute observations such as that. But, I’m afraid that simple knowledge of your error isn’t much help to me.”  
  
He was awfully close now; Hermione could see the lashes framing his dark eyes. They looked almost ebony as he got closer, until his hooked nose almost touched her own.  She backed her face away slowly as she felt his hot breath on her face, and he seemed perturbed. His gaze slipped to her rosy lips and suddenly he stood upright once more.  
  
“My Potion’s room. NOW!” Snape barked as Hermione stood  and walked quickly ahead of him. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer. He quickly strode beside her as they made their way to his classroom. Hermione kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eyes.  
  
It was strange to watch him move. It was if his upper half didn’t even seem to be on the same body as his lower. Sure, they were both rigid, but whereas his knees bent his back remained at the total alignment of a pole, he never seemed to slouch, even when lifting something. He almost moved like a robot, save for the graceful way he walked.  
  
Finally they reached his doors, which he opened roughly, pushing her inside. She felt her knees go weak as his hand briefly touched the small of her back. Then it was gone, like the passing of a very cold breeze.  
  
“Sit,” he commanded angrily, tossing her some bright white parchment. Then plucking her already poised quill from her shaking hands, he stabbed another one of his into it. It was an elegant looking quill, black feather instead of smoky gray. She looked to it, fascinated at how some items a person owned could reflect so much about the owner. He stood ahead of her, and watched her until she drew her gaze to meet his.

“What I am to do tonight, sir?”  
  
“You are to write; _I will never be late for detention_. One thousand times.”  
  
Hermione was almost laughing, _Lines? How easy_! But her stomach dropped as she recalled the quill she was holding. Snape followed her gaze and gave a low chuckle, half hearted as if he hadn’t really wanted to laugh in the first place.  
  
“Yes, Miss Granger. It’s enchanted so that you’re not permitted to cheat. You’ll be writing the old fashioned _Muggle_ way. I’m sure you’re familiar,” He smirked as he saw her face deepened in an angry blush. She was angry at this last comment.  
  
“Yes sir,” she said looking to the scraps of long parchment in front of her. She sighed and waited for him to leave, dipping her quill in the ink and starting her scratchy writing.  
  
Snape continued to watch her a few more moments, before retreating to the other side of the laboratory. They worked in comfortable silence a while. Funny, how Hermione didn’t mind him when he wasn’t talking. It was almost comforting having him do some activity around her while she wrote. It was almost as if they were a couple.

Where did that thought come from?

She may not have known where the thought came from,  but suddenly the fleeting image of Snape and she in a comfortable, long term relationship flashed through her mind. Making dinners, reading together before the fire, going to bed together . . . She blushed a bit at this, her head filled with bizarre sweet Snape moments. What a life to be married to someone whom she could have actually real conversations with!  She was smiling dreamily in the distance as she contemplated such a life, suddenly two dark eyes peering into her own awoke her from this warm fantasy.  
  
“May I ask what is so fascinating about the wall, Miss Granger?” Snape asked bemused. Hermione blushed as the dream from nights before ran through her mind, and she was seriously wondering if his lips were as firm as they looked.

 _Snap out of it._  
  
“Have you finished your lines?”  
  
“No sir,” Hermione answered hastily, as Snape glanced at her paper. In all her dreaming, her hand had kept writing, right off the edge of the parchment. She looked at the marks going off the page and onto the table, and then back at a confused Professor.  In her anxiety she upset the parchment under her hands, knocking several pieces to the floor.

“Clumsy girl,” Snape growled, kneeling at the side of her table. He gave a small inward sigh of irritation, attempting to pick up the fallen parchment the same time she did. Hermione watched as his lean frame moved beside her, his shoulder pressing against her leg.

The feel of his scratchy cloak against her caused her heart to hammer. Hermione didn’t know what came over her then, but this compulsion to touch his hair was too much and before she could stop herself she had reached out to touch one strand. Before she could even make the connection, Snape was pulling back from her.

“Oh,” she gasped, looking at the top of her professor’s head. He stiffened, dropping the papers onto her desk and stepping back from her. He regarded her silently a moment, wondering what was going on with her. Snape rubbed his temples tenderly, sighing loud and heavily.

“Just. Leave, Miss Granger. You’re obviously ill,” Snape hissed pointing his wand at the parchment, and suddenly it was gone.  Had the girl actually tried to touch his hair? And had he _wanted_ her to? What on earth was going on with him? Hermione stood, pulling her books to her chest and trying to swallow her humiliation at her near miss.  
  
“When, should I report back here, Professor?” she asked meekly and dreading the prospect of her next date of punishment.  
  
“Next Friday, Miss Granger,”  he said sternly. “Perhaps Filch will require some assistance. But, we’ll meet this Thursda here as originally planned for your _predicament_.”  
  
Hermione nodded, suddenly aware of how tall and broad shouldered he was, now that he was inches away. He looked down at her, irritated that she was still wasting his time.  
  
“What are you waiting for you silly girl? An engraved invitation? GO!” he snapped, and swirled on his heel to leave for the front of the room.  Hermione fled from the room, her heart pounding as she ran smack into Black. He caught her by the arms before she fell, and she felt her heart leap as she melted into his touch.  
  
_How stupid of me to be thinking of Snape all this time_ , Hermione thought almost laughing, when she felt even more secure in the strong hands of Black. How could she had even considered feeling for Snape? Snape was an ugly, greasy git and Sirius Black was a man of humor, bravery, the most beautiful smile…

“Hello Professor Black,” she sighed as she inhaled the strong cologne Sirius had obviously just sprayed on himself. Black glanced at Hermione strangely for the girl seemed off kilter. He almost looked sorry for her. She smiled at him, not noticing this. He smiled at her, trying to be kind, as he had owed to himself to try and be more civil to the know-it-all.

Snape would be his after all.

Snape watched this all from his spot at the front of the classroom. He was slowly sweeping to where Black still had Hermione in his embrace. Black sensed Severus from the corner of his eyes. Hermione was blushing now, and looking at Black’s cloaked chest. Snape felt the insides of his stomach lurch, as he saw Hermione glowing in the gentle presence of Black.  
  
Suddenly Black inhaled shallowly and brought his hands away from Hermione’s shoulders. Suddenly, very out of character Hermione looked to Snape almost as if she were guilty of something. She saw his pained expression and felt her stomach squish up. She grabbed her bag from its fallen place on the floor and  made a hasty exit from the room,  
  
Snape looked irritatedly to Black who was wringing his hands nervously.    
  
“Would you like to go to the Three Broomsticks?” Black asked Snape so soft that Snape actually looked to him in wonder.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“The Three Broomsticks,” Black repeated. “The pub in Hogsmeade. You often go there after Quidditch games.”  
  
Snape growled miserably at this. “Been spying on me then, Black?”

“No,” Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender. “I just noticed is all. I thought you might want to come with me tonight. Toss back a few firewhiskeys and see where the night takes us?”

Snape peered into Black’s face in utter disbelief. Here this cad was talking to him as if they were the oldest of friends and as if he hadn’t tried to make Snape’s life a living hell all through school.

“I don’t drink on school nights,” Snape lied, moving towards his desk.  

“Would you like to work on some Potions? Or I could help you with marking?” Black asked merrily, ignoring that Severus was backing up from him at every opportunity.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re playing at Black,” Snape hissed, “but since when do you want to spend time with me?”

Sirius shrugged, trying not to be too vulnerable.  
  
“I suppose, I just wanted to, well, to see you. I feel bad, for all the times James and I-“  
  
Snape held up a pale hand at this, knowing where this uncomfortable conversation was going.

 “How convenient. However your apology is about twenty years too late.”  
  
He most certainly did not want to go back and reminisce about a time where he was mercilessly tortured by classmates, where his pride was nothing and he was constantly forced to live in the shadow of James Potter. Where he was strung up like a side of veal and pointed at and mocked. No. Times like that were best left forgotten.  
  
Black looked uncomfortable to Severus, and sighed deeply out of anger. Why did he have to be so difficult? Here he was pouring out his heart, and the man didn’t want to listen. But as he looked to Severus he saw the boy that he had once been. Scared and angry and so terribly alone.

 Sirius felt his heart shatter as tears began leak down his face. Suddenly he blinked them back, stepping closer to the pale man and finding him to be the most achingly beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He wanted to kiss away the man’s pain. To embrace him and whisper how sorry he was over and over. To make love and show him how much he was wanted and needed and desired.  

“Oh, _Severus_ ,” Sirius breathed, he gazed at Snape a moment. Snape backed away, feeling Black’s breath on his cheek.  
  
“What?”  Snape asked deeply and looking to Black with clear distaste. Black sighed, attempting to brush a loose strand of Snape’s black hair back out of his eyes. 

Before he could complete the action Snape slapped Black’s hand out of the way. He was confused at Black’s bizarre and tender action, his heart in his throat as he hastily backed up to the wall. Black was so very close. But he didn’t seem malicious or out to hurt. But there was a wildness in his eyes that made Snape grow pensive and reach for the wand in his cloaks.  
  
“Severus-“ Black started, then as if on afterthought he nervously wet his lips. Snape looked confused at the man a moment before Sirius hands darted out from his sides,  grasping Snape’s dark tresses at either side of his face brought his lips forcefully to his own.

***  
  
Somewhere in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was sitting on the large red sofa. Rocking back and forth as she stared at the glowing embers of the fire.  
  
She had been sitting there several hours, and her thoughts had been filled with horrible rude images of her and Black and Snape. God, her thoughts of Snape were so unspeakable she blushed every singletime her mind drew to him, against her will.  
  
But what she was feeling at this moment was ludicrous. This obscene cold dread that was going through her entire frame, despite the warmth of the fire.  She had come to a horrible realization as she sat there with her thoughts. She had tried to deny it, tried to ignore it and even try to reason with it, but to no avail.  
  
She _liked_ Professor Snape.

 

 

 

 


	11. Forbidden Passion

It took Snape a full moment to register what was happening. But as soon as he felt Black’s firm mouth start to move against his he growled loudly, pushing a dazed Sirius harshly away from him. Black jumped back at the forceful contact, looking devastated as he stared into the dark eyes of a furious Severus Snape.    
  
But they weren’t fast enough as Minerva’s head poked around the corner, and she uttered a disturbed  “ _oh_ ” of surprise. She had simply been coming to ask Severus a question on his lesson plan when she’d interrupted the two young men in quite a compromising position.    


“Oh hello Severus. . . Sirius,” she said calmly, trying to keep her voice from shaking with laughter. “Having a pleasant evening?”

She tried carrying on as if she hadn’t just witnessed the two most mismatched male Professors at Hogwarts snogging like third years at a dance. She felt her burning gaze drag to Snape as if his solemn isolation suddenly all made sense.  
  
“GET OUT!” Snape roared at the two of them. Minerva obliged quickly with a stark look of fear, but Black just looked to Snape obviously crushed.  
  
He hadn’t even had a chance to fully taste Snape’s full lips before Snape had pushed him away. But, that wild look in Black's eyes still remained, and that’s what unsettled Snape. He just continued to stare at Snape, feeling his blood rushing in his ears. He wanted more and more of Severus. He wanted to feel that hair between his fingers and that soft mouth under his again.   
  
“I said, _get out_ ,” Snape hissed angrily, pulling his wand from his pocket. Black nodded silently, and with tears welling up in his eyes he left, closing the door behind him.  
  
Snape felt his stomach lurch as he recalled Black’s lips all over his own. Gads, it was horrid. He ran to his bathroom chambers, and promptly spat into the bathroom sink.  He let the cool water run into his hands before he splashed it onto his pale face. He looked to his pale reflection in the mirror and felt himself growing ill. He sighed, as did his opaque image.  
  
“I need a drink.”  


***  
  
“No Harry,” Hermione said primly, sitting on the crowded stands of the Quidditch field later that afternoon. “You’re not going to copy my charms homework anymore this term!”    
  
Harry sighed, dropping his broomstick beside him as they sat together on the stands. He looked to her with pleading eyes. Even though they were surrounded by people, Hermione was distracted by this.  
  
“C’mon Hermione,” he pleaded shamelessly. Hermione rolled her eyes and recalling all she had done to his Godfather nodded hesitantly.  It was the least she could do in times like this and she quietly acquiesced, handing him over her latest charms homework without a further fuss.   
  
“Strange,” Harry said suspiciously. “Normally you give me a lecture about applying myself and how I’m never going to make it as an Auror if I don’t smarten up.”   
  
Hermione felt herself grow uncomfortable at the scrupulous look Harry was beading down on her. All the laughter and the cheering around her was lost as her heart dropped and she shrugged forcing a laugh.   
  
“I suppose there’s no point Harry. Either you’ll apply yourself or you won’t.”  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow in a very Snape-like manner, and looked as if he were calculating something. He was about to say something more when they were interrupted.   
  
“Hey Potty!” Draco shouted from up in the field, and Hermione was actually thankful for his ugly, ferret face. “We’re starting! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”  
  
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes, giving each other a sigh as Harry jumped onto his broom and prepared to defend Gryffindor.   
  
That had been too close.  


***  
  
December rolled around lazily and along with it the onslaught of Christmas. The rumors had been squelched after one long and threatening conversation with McGonagal, who claimed she had said nothing to anyone except Dumbledore. Snape had cornered her in her desolate classroom one afternoon, and after this confession had stayed the hell away from him.   
  
Everytime he passed Sirius in the hall, Black would keep his head down and humbly stride past a disgusted Snape. Snape still didn’t know what was going on with Black. He assumed their prior _encounter_ had been because of their close quarters for so long, and the heat of the moment. Or a moment of mania. Perhaps Black felt pity for all the wronging of his past and if manifested itself in the most bizarre of affection?

 Snape was searching for any reason as to why the elusive ladies man had kissed him so passionately. He blamed it on something Black had eaten. To stifle rumors, he’d ensured that they hadn’t been alone together at all and when meals came, Snape sat abnormally far from him.

At the current moment Snape looked normally miserable, always seeming like a shaft of darkness as he tread across the annoyingly bright snow of Hogwarts.  Sure he wouldn’t admit it, but he did like the definite sound of snow crunching under his feet. He almost felt at peace, until a large snowball hit him in the side of the head.  
  
“TWENTY POINTS FROM HUFFLEPUFF!” he roared as the frozen students looked to him in fear. Damn their miscalculations! They nodded and managed a squeak of apology before they ran off in utter fear. Snape smirked to himself, enjoying their terror. At least he had their fear, he didn’t need their respect.  
  
Suddenly a bushy-haired figure made its way down the narrow path to the school from the dormitories, coming straight towards him with her nose in a book. Hermione Granger.   
  
Snape groaned lowly at the prospect of having to speak with her.  In the past month they had continued to meet weekly to go over the reversal for the lust potion. And every week Severus had been noticing small things about her. The way she flicked her fringe out of her face when she was overheated. The softness of her skin when she grabbed an ingredient from him. He didn’t recall when he had started to take note of Hermione Granger, but he had and it was proving to be a distraction.   
  
“Oh, hello Professor.”  
  
Gads. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t even noticed she was that close. He forced a scowl on his pale face and couldn’t help but notice how fetching she looked.  
  
“Miss Granger.”  
  
The month’s worth of detentions had been maddening as well. He knew he should send her off to Filch, but then he’d get this strange desire to be around her. Her there in the Potions class all the time, writing and flitting her quill down her cheek as she thought, sometimes dragging it down that slender white throat of hers while he tried desperately not hit a breaking point.   
  
“Enjoying the snow?”  
  
Her lips and cheeks were so rosy from the cold, her hair was lifting as the icy wind surrounded them. Snape noticed was was shivering slightly and broke from his reluctant reflection. She was a young, foolish Gryffindor. He kept thinking this, but couldn’t quite convince himself.  
  
She was looking at him strangely when he didn’t answer immediately and noticed him looking at her in a way that was much too Slytherin. She thought it was strange that he could be so cold to her after all the time they’d been spending together. Yes, this time was usually strained and in silence, but still she was a bit crestfallen.  
  
“Well, I can see you’re busy,” she said sharply, causing him to wince as she spoke. He nodded and continued walking as she kept marching on behind him, wondering if she’d see him at dinner this evening.  
  
She knew very well he would. He always had. She had been paying quite close attention to her Professor as of late. Fantasizing about him more and more if she were honest. And eventually she came to the frightening conclusion that she wanted him. Desperately. However this proved to be an impossible concept to wrap her mind around for everytime he came near her she felt her heart beat like a jackhammer. Even their brief interlude just now had her trembling in her boots.   
  
She knew it wasn’t just fear. It was also guilt for spraying Black with that stupid love potion, and having Black fawn all over Snape. How horrible it must be for both of them. She had been staying away from Black however. There was no point in throwing yourself in front of a man who is so very concentrated on someone else. Sirius Black was in the past, along with the rest of her childish dreams and desires. She could freely admit – well, in her mind- that there was something about Severus Snape that had bewitched her.

But as Snape stalked off wordlessly from him, a lump of coal in the snow as his black robes billowed out behind him, one question arose. Black may have been in the past. . . But was Snape the best decision for her future?


	12. Christmas and Punishments

Christmas had arrived at Hogwarts.  
  
Snape as a regular Scrooge was stalking his way down the halls of the school, sneering at the passing giggling mundane idiotic students that happened to pass him and taking points from anyone who dared to wish him a Happy Christmas.  
  
“Stupid girl,” he was muttering, forcing the door to his chambers open. He heard the creak from potions door, and slammed it hurriedly behind him. The snowflakes fell from his black cloak as he tossed it onto a nearby sofa. He collapsed into his dark and ornate chair, arms crossed in their usual stubborn manner as he muttered to himself inanely.  
  
“ _I’ll see you at dinner_ _if you attend_ ,” he drawled in a high pitched voice of mockery.  He chuckled darkly and threw up his hands as he now stood, pacing around the room.  
  
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, she was a child for Merlin’s sake. Well, no that wasn’t quite accurate was it? She had blossomed into a woman. But still, she was a student and the thought that he may be drawn to her at all made him feel quite lecherous.

He broke away from this, shaking his head as his once unruly hair settled. He strode to the bathroom, climbing into the large and old looking shower. The water came on with a loud high-pitched squeak, and let the warming water soothe his thoughts.  
  
Although at the moment, a cold shower would have been a wiser idea.

***  
  
Hermione was still making her way back from the Library, the snow falling lazily onto her dark robe, although she paid it no heed for her mind somewhere completely else.  
  
In the dungeons with Snape, to be exact.  
  
She was contemplating what she could possibly have gotten a crush on him. Since her beginning at Hogwarts he had been the eternal thorn in her side. He had berated, humiliated and all around been cruel to her. She still recalled the time when her teeth had been spelled upon so that they reached past her chin.  
  
Snape had known she was embarrassed about her teeth in the first place. But he had leaned down, looking at her in the eyes as she flinched and tried to shy away from him.  
  
_I see no difference_.  
  
She still remembered the pain of humiliation tear through her while she emitted a loud whimper and scampered off to her room to sob and sob and sob. Now she was much more mature, she saw past the facade of his cruelty, although she knew below it hid more cruelty. She assumed this was just the way he was, and accepted him for it.  
  
But now, as she was pacing in her room decided which robe to wear, she was thinking if her crush on him hadn’t been a stupid endeavor. She had stayed behind for Christmas holidays, insistent that the potion continue to be worked on during the holidays. She hadn’t time to go skiing with her parents when she still had a lovesick Ron and Black wandering around Hogwarts living miserably.

But the real reason had been the desire to spend more time with Snape. Hoping she’d run into him – much like she had only hours before. Hoping that somehow she could convince him to look at her as more than an annoying know-it-all. How had this happened? When had her fear turned to such lust?  

   
Sure, he was sort of handsome, not your usual run of the mill handsome, but if you got past the greasy hair and cruel sneer, he had quite a dashing and striking profile. And he was witty in a dark, sadistic and strange sort of way, but still, he was funny.  
  
She finally picked a dark black dress robe, that was cut just a little more fancy, with a silver design through it that fanned out more like a dress than a robe. She smiled at her reflection, and grasping her wand in a slender fist she made a spell for her unruly hair. Now it was smoother and swept to one side at the front, while the back fell in loose waves down her back.  
  
Now all she had to do was get Snape to like her.  
  
Easier said than done.

 

***  
  
Snape stepped out of the shower minutes later, his hair still greasy, no matter how many times he washed it. Not that it mattered, for if he really did care that much about his appearance he could surely just do a spell to fix anything he wished.  His hair dried in minutes anyway, and he pulled on a new black robe and pants; his favored pair with buttons that ran down the side.  
  
He started for the door, cursing himself for being nervous about eating a simple meal. Then, he stopped glancing at the dresser he rarely went to. He noticed a small vial of cologne he had made himself out of interest to see if he could, and contemplated whether to wear it.  
  
_Would she notice if he did?_  
  
Hermione Granger. Damn her already. She was always there in the back of his mind. He mustn’t let wayward emotions get in the way of professionalism. He would not even attempt to seduce a student.  
  
He kept telling himself this as he placed the cologne on his wrists and neck.

***

  
Snape was in the foyer, just outside the great Hall, and could hear the excited murmurs of students and Professors alike inside. The Christmas feast was always one the remaining students looked forward to – enjoying the intimacy of all the houses coming together to celebrate. Severus however showed up simply because it was expected.    
  
“Ah, Severus,” said Dumbledore striding shakily up beside him. Things had been awkward ever since the Black incident. Snape acknowledged him with a terse nod, opening one side of the large doors, preparing to go inside when a certain annoying witch approached.  
  
“My, something smells lovely!” McGonagall said striding up beside them, and quite close to Albus. Snape immediately went rigid and tried to play it off.  
  
“Probably just the food Minerva,” he said patronizingly. “The house elves have surely outdone themselves.”  
  
McGonagall ignored his suggestion and sniffed the air around the three of them. Snape sighed loudly and prepared to walk inside when her voice entered his ears.  
  
“Are you wearing cologne Severus?”  
  
Snape flinched, his shoulders straightening a moment as he turned to them. “Not that its any of your concern, Minerva. But yes. I happen to think it good form to dress up for a Christmas meal.”  
  
“You never have before,” she observed craftily, knowing full well he couldn’t do anything drastic with Albus standing right there. Snape glared at her, and was about to say something when Albus interrupted.  
  
“Hmmm Professor Black is missing,” he remarked absently looking into the hall from where they were standing, only realizing what he had said as air hissed past Snape’s teeth. He turned casually to the sullen Potions Professor, who now closed the door to the hall and stood at his full height looking down at him.  
  
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Snape snapped furiously and dangerously quiet. Albus shook his snowy head, smirking under his beard.  
  
“Nothing Severus.”  
  
“If you must know, Black has been acting like a hormonal teenager and I have been targeted,” Snape snapped quietly, making sure no students were listening.  
  
“It is sort of creepy,” Minerva offered, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the trio.  
  
“See what happens when you meddle Minerva?” he spat at her, “ _Try to be nice to Black! Try to be kinder_! Well, look what happens when I try to be civil!”  
  
“Please Severus. Keep your voice down. We’re going to go into that hall, sit down and have a nice Christmas dinner and THAT IS FINAL!” Minerva said roughly, almost shaking at this proclamation.  
  
Snape looked to her surprised a moment, and didn’t answer, but raised his head and walked away in a huff. Albus patted McGonagal’s gnarled hand, comforting her, as she looked livid.  
  
“Calm down Minerva. He’s just confused.”  
  
McGonagall looked to Snape’s striding figure as he sat down at the two tables pushed together. As it was Christmas and not a lot of children stayed for the holidays it was close quarters. She watched his tall frame swoop down the aisle, looking like the great bat he was.  
  
Snape walked down the row, sneering at anyone who looked at him sideways. Finally his eyes rested on Hermione who looked all too involved in her turkey dinner. Ron and Harry were talking to her. They too had decided to stay behind – Ron because of Hermione and Harry because he had nowhere else to go. Sirius had been in terrible spirits, spending most of his time in his chambers.  
  
Snape stopped behind Hermione’s chair, looking down at her with a strange look on his face. Hermione felt someone behind her and looked up to him, noticing his pained expression. Snape said something to her, and she ducked her head, sort of blushing and nodded. Snape looked confused to her, nodding slightly. After that confrontation he slipped away to a few chairs down, near some Professors, a small smile on his normally miserable face.  
  
McGonagal suddenly let out a small shriek of laughter, and caught Albus off guard.  He looked at her with confusion, his twinkling blue eyes widened in shock at her outburst.  
  
“I understand it now,” she said giggling, as Albus looked to her confused. She pat his hand reassuringly and guided him inside the Hall to his seat.  
  
“Don’t worry Albus. He’s just confused.”

***

  
  
Dinner went on as scheduled, all the food was abnormally delicious and smelled even more divine. Hermione tried not to sneak glances at Snape, who smelled so very delicious himself. She tried to suppress the small smile that twitched at the corner of her mouth when she thought of when he’d first walked into the Great Hall. For no reason he had reminded her meet him on Thursday for further work on their project. Hermione had tried not to look too eager, but she knew he hadn’t needed to remind her.  
  
“Hmm...those house elves must have been busy today,” Harry said mindlessly, stuffing himself with the meal that lay in front of him.  
  
At the mention of the house elves, Hermione went rigid and began referring to the countless time to the lack of participation in her campaigning of S.P.E.W. much to the groaning and begging to stop from Ron and Harry. She made her speech quite loudly, looking angrily to her classmates for their lack of participation when a silky voice interrupted the conversation.  
  
“Perhaps Miss Granger if you didn’t force a badge in everyone’s face at the time in question, they might have been a little more eager to oblige in supporting the cause.”  
  
Snape smirked as he awaited her reply, she looked to him shocked and her face contorted angrily as he waited for her to reply with something truly shocking. Perhaps something he could give her detention for? But, no, she seemed to reconsider what she was going to say and finally in a sense of defeat, turned from his gaze and back to her meal.  
  
What was this? No sputtering reply? No, instead Hermione was looked with mortification to her meal, eating it grudgingly as Harry told her quietly, to ignore Snape. Snape glanced to her; was she crying? Snape felt his heart drop at this. Why had he said anything in the first place? Why did he feel the need to continually bait the girl? He looked to her again, no, she wasn’t crying. Just looked bored now.  
  
He went back to his meal, trying to ignore Dumbledore and Minerva’s glances at him. Dumbledore looked confused, whereas McGonagal looked enthralled with the whole thing. 

Hermione was thinking if her latest action had been the right one. She decided if she was to win the affections of the bitter Potions Master she may as well try to appease him. That meant not talking back, or acting like a know-it-all.  She ate her meal quietly, trying to get Ron to stop making dreamy faces her way. Finally the dinner was over, and everyone was full and happy. She pushed herself away from the table, forgetting to see if Snape noticed her new dress.  
  
Ron followed her out, insisting on walking her to her room. She nodded slightly, out of guilt. They walked slowly up to her chambers, then stopped in front of the door.  
  
“Thanks for walking me back, Ron,” she said grimacing as he looked at her with that same moony expression he had been cursed with.  
  
“No problem,” he said gently, smiling as he kissed her cheek in a friendly way. But, the kisses didn’t stop at her cheek, he was suddenly kissing her roughly, trying to slip his tongue into her unwelcoming mouth. She shoved him off, and wiped her mouth.

 “Leave. Now.”  
  
Ron looked to her with a strange expression on his face.

“No,” he said roughly and Hermione was suddenly petrified at the unfamiliar look in her old friend’s eyes. Ron was a great deal stronger than she was, and they were all alone in the corridor.  Ron advanced again roughly, pushing his lips to hers. He pushed her to the wall, his hands groping her all over as she struggled with him.  
  
“Honestly Ron,” she said pushing him from her, “I said leave me alone, and I meant it.”  
  
Ron stepped closer, as Hermione backed away from those eyes of his glittering dangerously and prepared to speak when a silky voice boomed over them.  
  
“I suggest you leave her alone, Mister Weasely,” Snape saidthinthingly as he stepped out from the shadows. “Or I’m afraid Filch will be busy giving you cleaning assignments until the New Year.”  
  
Ron looked as if he were going to say something, then decided against it and started backing away. Suddenly he turned and snapped Snape across the face with his clenched fist.

Hermione uttered a sound of horror, and ran beside Snape who in shock had tumbled onto his knees, slipping on damp floor.  Ron seeing what he had done ran off down the hall, and didn’t look back, all that could be heard were his shoes against the stone floor.  
  
Hermione kneeled down beside Snape as he put a hand to his lower lip that was now bleeding. Inadvertently she slipped her hand up to cup one side of his face, stroking it gently. He looked to her in surprise and didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead he seemed to look to her in admiration. She noticed his face wasn’t half a cold as she thought it would be.  
  
Suddenly realizing where she was and what she was doing she brought her hand away from his cheek, and cupped them together on her lap.  
  
“Please Professor,” she said gently, now looking to her hands, “Don’t blame Ron. He was just doing this because of the effects of the lust potion. I deserve to be punished for this, not him.”  
  
Snape suddenly went rigid, looking sullenly to her, the look of admiration gone and now replaced with a mask of anger.  
  
_Always sticking up for Weasely_ , Snape thought as he wiped the blood from his lips, _Gave the lust potion to him_ _,_ _always having him around her_ _now she_ _’_ _s seen him beat me_ , he grimaced at this. _She’s probably repulsed by me_ _,_ _butshe seemed so happy when I reminded her to meet me on Thursday_ _didn’t she?_ _Oh forget it, I_ _’_ _m acting like a hormonal teenager_ _,_ _worse than Black!_  
  
At the mere thought of Black and Hermione in the same context he felt all the anger of his jealousy blinding him as he stood at his full height, looking down at her with misguided anger. She was still shaking on the floor and he rapidly bent down, and raised her by her shoulders as she quivered in his hands, looking up to him, never noticing how broad his shoulders were.  
  
“Fine Granger,” Snape said ignoring the thin trickle of blood that slipped down the side of his rapidly moving mouth. His hands were still around the tops of her arms, digging into her soft flesh and making her squirm.  
  
“You want punishment?” Snape hissed darkly, his eyes looking all over her face, her quivering lips, her wide eyes and most of all, the fear he saw in her eyes, and that power coursed through him.  
  
“Well here it is.”  
  
---


	13. Bugger Off

 

With a sharp growl he grasped her narrow shoulders beneath his lean fingers and promptly encased his lips over hers. Hermione’s eyes were wide in surprise and she didn’t move but trembled against him. He wrapped his cloak around her roughly, kissing her more harshly, more needy.  
  
She made desperate whimpering noises, her eyelids fluttering as her face flushed. Snape didn’t seem to notice, perhaps too preoccupied with his tongue that was slowly moving past Hermione’s lips, and causing her knees to wobble. It made cause for him to hold her closer to him, pressing against her roughly.  
  
He pushed her against the stone wall, as he held her up with his thigh, feeling her pulsating against him, his kisses hot and greedy and feeling around in her robe for her full breasts. His cock was hard and throbbing and he could feel trying to burrow between her clothed legs.

“Do you want more, Granger?” he groaned against her mouth. “Then show me.”

She was kissing him back now with passion and gently nipping at his lower lip as he continued digging her into the wall.  His hands were travelling all over her willing body, inciting more moans from her as she silently begged him to continue.

“Fuck me,” she said as his mouth moved to her neck. “Fuck me, professor. Right here. I want your cock inside me. Now. Please, Professor I’m so wet-”  
  
He’d never heard the girl talk like that and the sound caused his cock to twitch excitedly.

Her hands were on his chest, gripping at him through his shirt. His head continued tilting to capture her mouth over and over in a furious rush of passion. His eyes were closed lazily, as he continued deepening his kisses with the very willing Hermione Granger.  
  
Finally, when he felt he couldn’t breathe anymore he pulled away, panting and looking at her with a strange and unreadable expression on his pale face. She had a nervous smile pasted on her flushed face, and he let his eyes fall to her reddened mouth, seriously contemplating attacking her mouth again.  
  
“Erm,” Hermione coughed at the sound of her hoarse voice, “Professor?”

“ _Professor?_ _”_  
  
Snape looked off into the distance, his heart pounding, as Hermione in the present and non-daydream fashion was waving her hands in front of his face. His eyes snapped and met hers as he coughed uncomfortably, as he realized his own fantasies had gotten the better of him.  
  
She had been standing in front of him for a good three minutes as his mind had wandered into dangerous territory. Dangerous because now his eyes were looking all over her, and desperately trying to stop. She had felt so right in his daydream and he quickly adjusted his robes to hide his growing excitement.  
  
“I just meant, that its really my fault Ron’s like this in the first place. So, you really shouldn’t punish him,” here she trailed off as she saw the Professor was staring rather harshly at her.  
  
“No mind, Granger,” Snape suddenly hissed, pulling his cloak around him and glaring at her as he strode off. His lanky frame slid down the hall and Hermione couldn’t help but follow with her eyes, and wonder if she hadn’t seen something flash in his eyes. Something. . . more. She shivered. She was about to follow him when she heard her name being called.

“Hermione?”

***  
  
Harry made his way down the hall, his eyes narrowed as he angrily stalked, ignoring as Snape gave a snide; “Mr. Potter” as they passed. His friends had been evading him like mad lately and it was driving him mental. What had happened to them? When had their friendship grown so strained?

Suddenly the sound of snatches of conversation caught his ears as he recognized them of those of his best friends. He leaned against the neighboring wall and listened intently.

“You know we mustn’t tell Harry,” Hermione was whispering urgently leaning against the stone wall irritably

“Why not?” Ron asked, although he knew the answer. He was only doing this to get Hermione angry. Because when she got angry, she got impossibly sexy. Plus, having Harry Potter ignore you was not a good thing and Ron was starting to feel the strain.

The secret they had been keeping from Harry was making it hard to hang around him, and Harry had noticed this, preferring to spend his time with his strange godfather, and more and more time on the Quidditch field.  
  
Hermione was angrily retaliating, not caring that Ron was looking at her like a piece of meat, and she kept angrily muttering at him. Harry stood around the corner, his ire started to grow as he heard them talking about him as if he were nothing more than a child.  
  
“You know perfectly well why not! We can’t trust to tell him, he’d-“  
  
Harry suddenly turned the corner, and faced his awed and surprised friends. Hermione blanched, taking a nervous step backwards. Ron had his arm crossed over his chest, his mouth twisted in irritation.

“Harry,” Hermione offered weakly. He looked at them both furiously and pushed Ron who tried to come closer. He didn’t want to bother with their explanations. All he knew is that they were sneaking around behind his back and talking about him. What kind of friends were they? Ron stepped closer, his hands palms up.

“Harry-“  
  
“Bugger off,” Harry said angrily, pushing Ron once more. The redhead clenched his jaw, his patience obviously waning. But Harry didn’t care, he didn’t want to look at them for another moment. He whirled around in his trainers, stalking off towards the common room in a fury.

All Hermione and Ron could do was watch as his angry frame hurried down the hallway.

***

Hermione was in the Potions lab a few days later, Snape still standing almost three feet away as they worked. Things had just been awkward ever since he had saved her from Ron’s unpremeditated attack. He hadn’t said anything to her since and she was rather devastated at the fact.  
  
Hermione was stirring the ingredients in a rush, looking at her watch every few minutes and sneaking glances at the bemused Snape. He enjoyed the fact that she was so nervous around him when they were alone. It leveled the playing field somewhat in his opinion. They worked for an hour in a comfortable and relaxed silence, almost natural, the only sounds were the ingredients being moved about. Hermione felt very relaxed and looked to Snape casually.  
  
“Have you talked to Professor Black, recently?” she asked trying to break the silence.  
  
Snape’s back straightened as if he’d been whipped and  he let a huff of irritated air hiss past his teeth. He should have known. Still carrying a stupid torch for that fool, Sirius Black.  
  
“Why do you ask, Miss Granger?”  
  
“Oh, just curious. He seemed ill a while ago.”  
  
What a clumsy reply. She internally berated his idiotic answer and looked to him hesitantly. Black seemed to be a taboo word, one that none should utter, and now when they were getting on so relaxed, she went and mentioned him. It had been amiable with just he and Hermione in the room together, working on potions. She was clever and quick and he found himself looking more and more forward to their times together. They hadn’t been working with Black for several days now, and Snape was utterly thankful.  
  
Until Sirius Black walked into the room that day as if summoned with Granger’s innocuous inquiry.  
  
There was a resounding bang as he opened the door, looking roughly around the room, his eyes resting on the two of them.  
  
“Severus,” Black said glancing at him and then, “Hermione.”  
  
Hermione shot him an exasperated yet gentle smile and continued stirring the potion madly, wishing time would just go faster. It was bad enough that Snape was looking at her as if she were some type of mad creature Hagrid kept in his pens outside, but having Black here as well? It was too stressful!    
  
“What can I do for you, Black?” Snape asked rigidly, looking to him idly but wary, Black stepped closer and Snape backed up. Hermione saw this and sighed in regret at the scene she had inadvertently created.  
  
Why had she done it? Was she really that lonely in the first place?  
  
“I’ll ask you again, Black,” Snape said thin-lipped. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“You said I could help. And I wish to.”  
  
That was all that was spoken between them, besides the inconsistent ramblings of Snape as he ordered Black and Hermione to grab certain things from the storage and etc. Before long Sirius had given her a sharp rap with his hips, taking the ladle from her and stirring the potion with extreme delicacy. Hermione gaped at this immature behavior from Professor Black of all people.  
  
“Stir faster,” Severus ordered Black sourly as Hermione took a break. He uncharacteristically handed her a glass of water when she saw she was parched.  She took it hesitantly and wondered if he had tampered with it, and seeing his almost hurt expression drank it quickly, thanking him gently and wondering why he kept sneaking glances at her.  
  
Black noticed as well.  
  
Hours later when Hermione was certain it was time to go, Snape ordered her to retrieve something else from the back storage. It was supremely dark and she sighed and grabbed around for the bat eyes. She was certain she had it when a light timber sounded behind her.  
  
“Let me get that for you,” Black said gently, looking to Hermione kindly and grabbing the bat eyes for her. Hermione took them, her heart pounding in concern of what the man would do with her alone. He was obviously still besotted with Snape and she was in his way.    
  
He tilted his head a bit, looking to her and gingerly brushing some of her hair from her face. It was a strange action and Hermione smiled gently, not hearing anything but that unnaturally loud beating of her heart.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
She was about to say something more when Black leaned his head down in a bit of a hurry and kissed her trembling lips, surprising Hermione into a stunned shock.  

He took her into his strong arms and Hermione clutched the bat eyes loosely in one hand. Black’s tongue invaded her mouth harshly, not at all as romantic as she had expected. She felt herself moan, and Black deepend the kiss, his hands slowly moving to her chest.

_It’s not him I want._  
  
But still, the kiss was sending those unprecedented shivers all over, and Black greedily kissed her more urgently. He wanted her. Not Snape. Snape had made no moves to suggest he saw Hermione as anything other than an annoying student, not that she was surprised. And here this handsome Sirius Black was holding her tightly, kissing her with such need.

 And yet as her eyes fell shut, she could only imagine it was Snape’s mouth on hers. It was his tapered  hands that gripped her around the waist and one hand behind her head crushed her lips to his. Hermione so intent on kissing him didn’t even notice the shaded figure that stood at the doorway, clenching his teeth and staring lividly at them.  
  
---


	14. Valentine's Day

The shrouded figure gave a low choked sort of cough and caught the two kissing figure completely any surprise. Hermione and Sirius whipped their head's around to face a familiar furious figure, both of them blanching at the sight.   
  
"Harry,” Hermione uttered softly, not knowing exactly what to say. Sirius looked suddenly very uncomfortable, and was shifting from foot to foot as if he had been expecting someone else.   
  
"’Allo Harry," Black said with a sheepish look on his face. Harry was breathing raggedly, and glaring so harshly at a blushing Hermione that she couldn't even meet his eyes. She dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling humiliated for so many reasons she couldn’t even name them all.   
  
"I came to apologize for my actions earlier, Hermione," Harry said growling, “and I catch you here...with my _uncle._ "

He let the word hang heavily between them all. Hermione was about to answer, but couldn't find the words. Black wasn't saying anything, but just looking embarrassed. He stepped away from Hermione who was trying desperately not to break down and cry.   
  
Harry didn’t say anything for a moment, and Hermione felt her knees numb in fear, fear of a young man she knew and loved like a brother, but who had strange powers not everyone could explain. Even right now it looked like his scar was pulsating. Hermione suddenly hear the gentle scraping of robes over the cobblestone floor, like dry leaves hitting the ground.   
  
Suddenly Snape was there, looking at all three of them with a confused squint on his sallow face. His eyes flicked from Black’s, a very bewildered look to Harry and a mighty disapproving look to Hermione.   
  
"I leave for five minutes, and we have a sudden congregation in the storage room?" he said with his usual sardonic mirth, his eyes still on her.   
  
Hermione looked up to his smirking face, to a man who had been kind to her, helped her when she thought she was lost, a man she had developed true passion for and now she had gone and heedlessly kissed Black. Or had he kissed her?  No matter. Either way, all chances with getting on with Snape were gone, not that she had a chance in the first place. This realization killed her.  
  
"I'm sorry,” Hermione said, rushing past Harry and Snape and with a choked sob, headed out the door of the Potion's lab. Harry and Snape eyed each other, confused and both wondering who she had apologized to.

***

Back in her head girl room, Hermione was pacing around her large bed, furious with herself and scared - but of what? She berated herself time and time again that night, wondering what had made her kiss Black back so certainly. She knew better than to fall for it, surely he was only trying to anger Severus, not that it would have worked. . . Would it have? She brushed her fingers over her swollen lips, tears slipping down her cheeks now. She let out an exasperated sigh now, flopping onto her bed miserably. His kisses had been nothing she had longed for, they were sloppy and halted and she somehow knew Snape would have done it better.  
  
_NOT THAT IT MATTERS!_ she shrieked angrily to herself, flipping the blankets over her head.   
  
Snape was a bitter, greasy git of a Potions master, who probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman if she approached him naked! But no, somehow she truly believed he would be a man who was cunning in his seduction. Whose hands would be excruciatingly skillful and surprisingly tender.   
  
Oh God, what the hell was she thinking? He was her teacher!  She pulled the large pillow over her head, holding it in place with her sprawled arms. Sleep suddenly very enticing. She fell into a dream-filled sleep, one where she felt cared for, but when she awoke the next day, couldn’t properly recall any of it.  
  
***   
  
“Why were you kissing her?”  
  
Sirius was trying to remain calm when speaking to his godson the next afternoon. They were sitting in Black’s office, sipping tea and trying to speak politely to one another. Well, trying to.  Harry refused to sit, but merely stood, arms crossed and furiously glaring at the man he had trusted with everything.   
  
“Why were you kissing her, Sirius?”  
  
Black fumbled about in his seat, wriggling and trying to look neutral. Bow how could he lie? He’d been caught red-handed kissing and fondling his godson’s best friend!  And it had all been a waste! He had been waiting for Severus that night before, waiting for him to walk in on Hermione and he, and go into a jealous rage. It would have been such a turn on.   
  
_Who says he would have picked you?_ said a niggling voice in the back of Black’s head. He dismissed it instantly – of course Severus would pick him. There was always next time. The problem at hand was lying to Harry and convincing him in the meantime. He waited for a brilliant idea to come to him, that would cause Harry to nod and move on .  
  
Nothing came.  
  
“I was trying to, well, cause someone to be jealous, Harry.”  
  
The words were halted and awkward, and Harry scrunched up his face, perplexed.   
  
“By kissing Hermione? The only other person there was Snape,“ at this Harry began to chuckle darkly, “and surely you weren’t-“   
  
He stopped mid sentence as he saw Black’s face redden slightly on his tan cheeks. Harry felt his stomach drop as he continued in a strangled voice.  
  
“You were trying to make _Snape_ jealous?”  
  
Sirius took a deep gulp of air, trying to think of how to construe this in his favor. No. No point, the boy was clever and would soon find out from Hermione surely. Plus, his mind was a nervous blank.  
  
“Yes. I was.”  
  
Harry thought of this a moment, perhaps he was overreacting. There had to be a probable reason...suddenly a light flickered into his emerald eyes.  
  
“Oh, did you have a bet, with Snape?” Harry asked as if fitting the puzzle pieces together. Black’s eyes widened a moment, and then he smirked and nodded.   
  
“Yes, how did you know?” Black said emphatically, clutching at these straws.   
  
“Oh,” suddenly Harry’s stomach dropped again. “Snape and you both like Hermione?”   
  
Black stopped at this. Thinking critically. She was after all Harry’s good friend and he was a professor. It was bad enough they’d been caught in such a compromising position. He shook his head airily, continuing after a deep sip of tea.   
  
“Er, actually, Harry. Please, don’t tell Hermione this. But, Snape and I had a bet going on for who could get Hermione to kiss them first. I won evidently, but wanted Snape to see as to prove I wasn’t lying,” his eyes searched Harry’s face to see if the boy was buying it. “And I know it’s terribly wrong being her professors and all. I feel rather embarrassed about it.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry nodded, looking to his godfather darkly. “That was a really cruel thing of you both to do, Sirius.”  
  
Sirius nodded. “I know Harry, I really feel terrible about it,” Sirius said, a weight lifted from his shoulders and chest. Harry nodded once more, and sort of grimaced.

“Please don’t tell Hermione, it would crush her.”  
  
Harry didn;t seem to take this into consideration, his mind elsewhere as he collapsed onto the nearby armchair.   
  
“Snape thought Hermione would kiss _him_?” Harry said, almost laughing, “Good luck. She wouldn’t let the greasy git near her.”  
____________________________________________  
  
February 14. Valentine’s Day. What a bloody joke. Hermione was walking down the halls, on her way to the usually desolate Library. She was very surprised to see it filled to the brim with students from all ages.  
  
“What are you all doing here?” Hermione asked a nearby crowd member.   
  
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” said a small Ravenclaw as if it were completely obvious.

“So?”

“So, everyone’s getting out books on Love potions.”

Hermione’s heart sank; it had been almost 6 months since her love potion fiasco. Snape had promised to have it done in five, the liar.  She now had moved past lusting after him, and knowing she couldn’t have him, to just plain hating him. She knew she had better not bother in even liking him because it saved her heart the trouble of breaking.   
  
The pink decorations floated all around as she clamored out of the library and down the hall, looking even more sullen than Snape was, if that was possible.

_Speak of the devil_ _._

 Snape was coming from one end of the hall, headed towards the breakfast Hall as well, looking at everyone miserably, and actually stalking down the hall with his arms crossed. His breath caught in his throat though as he saw her.  
  
God he was such an adolescent. Everything told him to stay away from her, not get too close. But, when he saw her a few feet away, coming from the other corridor he felt himself get all rubbery and flustered, thinking of things to say to her when he reached her.   
  
When she had gone from that annoying know it all Gryffindor to that mature, charming and brilliant young woman was beyond him. He couldn’t remember falling for her - it seemed to have just happened. He casually glided towards her, making it seem as if he didn’t notice her.  
  
He waited for her to say something to him as he reached the doors, beside her. His breath stopped as he felt the heat from her body next to his. Soon, she would say something to him.   
  
Except she didn’t.   
  
Instead she hurriedly pushed the large doors ahead of her, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes and rushing to join a Ron and Harry. They had resolved their differences, strange as it was. Harry even appeared to be a little nicer to her. She wasn’t sure why he was acting like this, but he was her friend again and that was all that mattered.   
  
Ron on the other hand was totally unpredictable, and Hermione repeatedly had to run off for fear of his increasingly bold libido often. But he couldn’t be blamed for this and Hermione allowed herself to think better of him.   
  
She looked over to a glowing Sirius Black who was happily munching on his toast and sipping his morning tea as he chatted gaily with McGonagall. Hermione sighed at his happy outlook. Ever since that kiss in the storage room, things had been totally awkward. No. Past awkward. _Painful_.   
  
Her marks never suffered, but her ego did. She knew deep inside it was all a play to get Snape to walk in and catch them, and get her into trouble so he could have him all to himself. But, that was the price she would pay for her loneliness. She asked for it as soon as she brewed that stupid potion.   
  
She felt her gaze slip over to the door where Snape was still standing, looking even more cross than usual. He glared at her surreptitiously and she felt her eyes dart back to her meal. As he passed the streamers that hung from the doorframes he snarled and clawed at them. He was past irritated. That stupid Granger girl was irritating him so much it was almost unbearable.   
  
Why should he care? Why should it matter than she didn’t speak to him? Fine, two could play that game. He’d show her.   
  
He felt a small and evil smirk play about on his lips. Hermione noticed this and tried to ignore him as he slid past her, his robes brushing against her back. She stiffened immediately, forcing eggs into her mouth in an almost robotic fashion. 

Snape made his way up to the front of the Hall, no one seemed to notice, save for Hermione who was trying to casually glance over at him time from time, telling herself she was looking around. She saw him sit next to Black, and start eating breakfast. Her heart sank as she rubbed her eyes, obviously disbelieving what she was seeing.   
  
“What the-“ Ron had noticed as well. “I thought he hated him.”  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione were all now looking at Sirius and Snape who were talking secretively to themselves, with Snape snatching glances at Hermione from behind his curtain of hair every now and then. Only Harry seemed to notice this, and was completely befuddled.   
  
“Are you still helping him with that potion?” Ron asked suddenly. Harry looked to Hermione confused.   
  
“What potion?” he asked suspiciously. Hermione gave a worried look to Ron who was turning pale.  
  
Suddenly as if on cue hundreds of owls flew in, dropping packages with pink paper and hearts on cards all over, to excited kids at all the tables.  
  
Hermione was momentarily relieved, and noticed a small gold envelope that had landed on her plate. She lifted it gingerly, seeing her name flashing on it in dark ink that seemed to sparkle. She was about to open it when Harry’s booming voice invaded her thoughts.  
  
“Well Hermione?”  
  
Right. The potion.    
  
“Oh, yes,” Hermione said calmly, “you see, Harry, Snape, Black and I have been working on a werewolf potion for the past little bit. We’re worried about Lupin and have been working like mad to find a better potion for him, so there’s no more relapses.”  
  
Harry nodded, believing this and sipping his drink. Hermione felt perfectly wicked for lying to the boy. Hermione shot a nasty look to Ron, and back to Snape and Black who were still talking, although it seemed to pain Snape a bit.   
  
“Well are you helping him tonight?” Ron asked again, Hermione shrugged.   
  
“I’m asking because I wanted to ask you to help me study,”  Ron added slowly, gauging Hermione’s reaction, which was as usual lately was discomfort.    
  
“Oh, I think I am,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Sorry.”  
  
Ron looked angry a moment, his cheeks flaming almost a shade darker than his hair. It had been harder and harder to pin down Hermione these days. She always seemed to have some excuse as to why they couldn’t be alone together. He was about to say something in anger but then his features relaxed, and a small smirk erupted onto his freckled face.  
  
“Prove it.”  
  
Those two simple words punctuated the air. Hermione choked on her eggs and looked up to his beaming face. It was the same look he wore whenever he bested her at Wizard chess.   
  
“Huh?”  
  
Ron sipped his drink casually, “I mean, you’re always working there. Ask him right now if you’re working tonight, maybe he’ll give you the night off. I’ll go with you.”  
  
At this he stood and waltzing around the table, promptly clamped his hand around her shoulder and lifted her shaking form from the table.   
  
“No. Ron, I’ll do it later, you know, when there are less people around,” Hermione offered nervously, seeing that Snape was noticing Ron dragging her up to see him.  She was cringing and trying to break from his grip. There were a few giggles and pointing as Hermione refused to move but Ron dragged her effortlessly; years of Quidditch had done that to him.   
  
“Ron!” Hermione yelped as they got closer, and her heart began beating faster and faster until that was all she could hear.   
  
Then they were standing at the head table, a few meters away from Black and Snape who had ceased talking, and were now eyeing the two newcomers.   
  
“Hello professors,” Ron beamed jovially, looking evilly to a humiliated Hermione, who refused to make eye contact with either of them.   
  
“Allo Ron, Hermione,” Black said softly, looking at them with practiced politeness. Obviously they had intruded on something importantly private. Snape looked to Hermione whose face was slowly turning into a rosy hue, which he found to be all too delightful.   
  
“What did you two want?” Snape offered silkily. Hermione felt her face prick with heat as she finally met his eyes. To her surprise he was sort of smiling, no, _smirking_.   
  
“Hermione just wanted to check something with you, Professor Snape,” Ron said off handedly, looking to Black who was fuming.   
  
“Then why are _you_ here?” Snape hissed, he wanted Hermione alone and vulnerable. Putty in his masterful hands. Ron bowed off moved back a bit. Hermione took a deep breath, nervous as hell and not knowing how to contain it.   
  
“Er, Professor Snape,” she started, not quite able to meet his gaze anymore. “I just wanted to know if you were going to require my assistance tonight.”

“Why, Miss Granger. Its Valentine’s Day,”  Snape said slyly, as Hermione raised a quizzical eyebrow. She shrugged suddenly, since when did he care about holidays, this one in particular?   
  
“So?”  
  
Snape almost chuckled at her response, but stopped himself. Black was looking to him longingly, and miserably now that she was here. He almost went back to his breakfast when Snape spoke sharply.  
  
“I have plans.”  
  
Hermione and Black both looked to Snape in shock. Hermione actually felt her heart drop as Black dumbfoundedly dropped his fork on his plate.  He had plans? With whom?! A sudden jolt of jealousy ran through both the figures staring at the enigmatic professor.   
  
“Oh,” Hermione said casually, as if she didn’t really believe him. Snape decided to go for the jugular.   
  
“Besides Black has offered to resume the Potion making alongside me, and as I have accepted,  your assistance is no longer required,” Snape said cooly sipping his tea.   
  
Black looked to him shocked, and suddenly shot Hermione a smug and victorious grin. Snape didn’t want her help anymore? No private time just between them working over a bubbling cauldron? Hermione felt herself go all scrunchy inside, and couldn’t quite bring herself to do anything, as she was stunned, and obviously didn’t know what to say.  
  
But Ron certainly did.   
  
“That’s great, Hermione! Then you can help me study,” Ron said enthusiastically coming over to her, having heard the entire conversation. Then he added, not noticing Snape’s unwavering gaze on them, “And then perhaps dinner?”    
  
Her initial instinct was to cringe away from him about the dinner part of the plans. But she felt humiliated at Snape’s casual rejection of her. Suddenly as if a challenge had started, Hermione forced a smile on her face, and ignoring Snape’s dark glare answered brashly.   
  
“I’d love to, Ron.”    
  
---  
  
 

 


	15. Having a chat

Hermione twirled in her robes, her hair down and slightly curled around her shoulders thanks to a heap of sleekeazy. She looked into the mirror reflection and forced a grin on her face. But it was crooked and looked impossibly false. She was still stinging from Snape’s public rebuffing earlier.  

 _Bastard.  
_  
She felt her pride fighting for reassurance, but could not find any. She swallowed the tears that threatened to fall. Snape had humiliated her and that shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did.  She had no proof he liked her, let alone had feelings for her! But when she reflected back on their quiet moments hadn’t he had seemed sweet and almost _gentle?_

No more thoughts like that now. She knew it was stupid to hold such affection for a Professor of all people! How stupid to fall for a teacher - no, not fall for, merely have a crush on. A silly school-girl crush that meant nothing long term to either of them.   
  
She looked to her reflection and decided that after careful deliberation, a trip to Hogsmeade was just what the doctor ordered. A night out with Ron might prove to be a useful thing.  He had obviously disregarded studying, claiming since it was Valentines they do something to celebrate, and automatically decided on dinner.   
  
She stepped out of her room, pulling a cloak around her shoulders and heading off for the Library where she and Ron were to meet. Her shoes echoed down the hall and she felt so very alone. Her usual habit as of late had been to pop in on Snape, just to see how the Potion was coming or chat, but that hadn’t been often, the man was intimidating.  Perhaps once or twice when she thought he may be in a good mood.   
  
In her distracted thoughts she ran into a figure in front of her, Hermione quickly brought her attention to the contact and uttered a string of apologies.   
  
“I’m sorry Professor,” she said finally, before McGonagall laughed and held up her hand in a faux surrender.  
  
“No matter Miss Granger, it happens,” she eyed the young girl carefully, noting that she looked absolutely crestfallen  
  
“Well, Happy Valentine’s Day, Professor,” she said forcing a smile that Minerva detected straight away.  She was going to keep moving when Minerva’s voice stopped her.   
  
“You look a little down for Valentine’s Day, Miss Granger,” Minerva said softly, “What’s the problem?”

Hermione blinked a moment, her smile faltering momentarily and then reappearing with vigor.

“Nothing Professor, what gave you that idea?”

Minerva looked around her and motioned for Hermione to follow her, which as a dutiful Gryffindor, she did.  They waltzed into Minerva’s office, and she shut the door, nodding her head in the direction of a nearby chair, which Hermione took gratefully.   
  
“Miss Granger I am going to speak frankly.  You are a grown woman,” Minerva said as they were comfortably seated across from each other. “A woman mature enough to make her own decisions, and old enough to know when to act.”  
  
Hermione looked to Minerva quizzically, “I’m not sure I follow-“  
  
“Miss Granger I can tell by your face that something is troubling you. It’s in your eyes and your smile,” she sighed at this. “And while you’re old and mature enough to make some very big decisions, you are also young enough to be open. You haven’t become jaded by the world. You’re still young enough to fight for what you want, young enough to consider love.”

She trailed off, her eyes still on a very embarrassed Hermione. Good, she had gotten the message. Hermione now shrugged childishly and her eyes fell to her twisting fingers.

“The thing is, professor,” Hermione said in a very small voice.  “The kind of love you’re speaking about fighting for only works if it goes both ways.”

“And yours does not?”

“It doesn’t,” Hermione answered in shame. “And I understand that. I’ve come to learn firsthand that love cannot be manufactured or forced. I’ve also come to learn that one-sided affection hurts very badly.”

“And you’re sure your affection is one-sided?”

“Positive,” Hermione replied quickly. “And I suppose I’ve decided that the pursuing of such a thing is a waste of time and energy. I’ve decided that with relationships, as in most things, you need to be logical – see who fits. Who likes you and enjoys your company. Who would be a good companion.”

“That doesn’t sound very passionate,” Minerva observed wryly.

“Yes, well, as I’ve come to learn – passion can be more trouble than it’s worth,” Hermione grumbled her mind flitting to her explosive Potions Professor.  “I think I need to move on from thoughts of passion and onto more realistic expectations.”

“Ron Weasley,” Minerva said without thinking. Hermione shot her a red-faced look and gave a short nod.

“Ron treats me kindly,” Hermione admitted. Even before the lust potion Ron had always been her staunch protector, her kind friend, her loyal comrade. Would it really be so awful to be attached to him? To a boy who actually _liked_ her?

“But-“Minerva was about to interject when Hermione suddenly sat up straight.

“Er, thanks for the advice Professor,” she said forcing the humiliation from her cheeks.  “But Ron’s expecting me and I best go.”

McGonagall stood and with a reassuring pat on her shoulder she indicated that the girl could leave.  With that Hermione made her way out of the office, her brows knit in confusion. What on earth had that been about? She was still thinking about this as she made her way down to the Library where a very dapper Ron was waiting with a bouquet of daisies. He looked very dashing and handed her the flowers with a small kiss on her hand.  Was Ron what Professor McGonagall had been talking about? She felt so flummoxed.

“What kept you?” he asked innocently as they made their way down the hall and to Hogsmeade. Hermione smiled and a laugh sounded out as she took his hand in hers and recalled McGonagall’s confusing speech.

“Something I don’t even understand myself.”

_______________________________________  
  
Minerva made her way down the Potion chambers, humming to herself as she anticipated the night before her, it was Valentine's after all.

But now as she approached Severus’ door she felt a heavy hand on her heart. She had been witness to the altercations between he and Hermione these past few weeks. If no one else, she saw what was there.  She saw that the unmoving young Severus was obviously besotted but going about it in the worst possible way.

It was warm outside his door though, evidently they had been at work a while and her suspicious were confirmed as she opened the door to two figures hunched over a large cauldron bubbling as Snape barked orders to Black.  It was almost endearing as she saw Black scurry about to collect supplies, or strike another candle, as the surrounding ones were growing dim.

Minerva sashayed behind to the two mumbling figures, and cleared her throat. Loudly.

They jumped apart as they heard her, and whipped around. Snape gave a hopeful look over his shoulder that the old woman observed immediately. He had been hoping for someone else – he had been hoping for _her_.  Seeing it was Minerva gave a scowl of displeasure.

“ Severus,” she said gleefully, trying to be pleasant although the sight of the young man scowling did little to encourage such gaiety.  

“What can I do for you, Minerva?” Snape asked feigning politeness. Black looked to McGonagall a moment before noticing her discomfort, he took this as a sign and responded by telling Snape he was going to get more supplies.  When he was dismissed, Minerva turned her attention back to Snape, who had his back to her now.

“Severus. Look at me, please.”

Snape didn’t respond automatically, more at his leisure he twirled slowly to face her, with arms crossed and a scowl on his pale face, shadow ridden in the dark.

“What?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Snape was confused and raised a dark eyebrow. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Minerva sighed impatiently, “Listen Severus, you don’t have a lot of time here. Stop being a prat and go to her.”

Snape stepped back from her whispering urgency. He held up his palms as if trying to keep her away.

“And who is this nameless woman I’m supposed to run to?”

She sighed now angry, this was proving to be more difficult than originally planned.

“Severus Snape, you obviously feel something for Hermione Granger. If it was any other girl or if you were any other man I would be staunchly against it. As it is, you two have been through so much. We all have. And I won’t sit idly by while you throw away this second chance at a life. At love.”

Snape looked all around, slamming the door with a small charm before he swept up to her and started yelling like a mad man in her face, not caring that Black could probably hear every word from the storage room.

“Are you mad? An eighteen year old Gryffindor? I should call up St. Mungo’s right now and have you committed.”

“I’ve seen you go too long with such misery, Severus,” Minerva said compassionately, looking at him with somber eyes and tears that threatened to fall.  “At first I thought you were lusting over Black – which was indeed a surprise, and an amusing one at that. Then I saw how you were around Hermione and you seem so natural together. Why fight it? Especially when she seems to feel the same way about you.”

_She does not. She was only too eager to rush off into the arms of Ron Weasley._

Severus looked to her piteously, “Why the sudden caring Minerva?” he asked suspiciously, “Why now? Why not a month ago? Why _now_ of all times?”

Minerva looked to him callously, “I wasn’t sure if I should even bother coming to you-”

“As well you shouldn’t have,” Snape commented coldly, as McGonagall shot him a look of pure venom and continued fiercely.

“-Because tonight I believe Miss Granger is going to make up her mind.”   
__________________________________________  
  
“Thanks for the dinner Ron,” Hermione said gingerly patting her mouth with a napkin and smiled at Ron who was looking to her moonily.    
  
He had treated her to a delicious Valentine’s dinner at _Madame Puddifoot’s_. Aside from the confetti she had to pick out of her roast, it had been divine. They had gone for a short walk, talking about classes and their future plans. Ron wanted to help his brother at the joke shop – Hermione wanted to go onto a wizarding university. It had felt like old times – Ron had been engaging, polite and at most he had held her hand. It had felt nice and comfortable. And now they sat in the _Three Broomsticks_ enjoying a nightcap before heading back to Hogwarts.   
  
She had agreed, only if he’d let her pay her way. He didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea, but finally relented. Hermione didn’t feel right taking his money, especially when she was well enough off by herself and especially when he was still very much under the potion’s influence.  He looked at her over his butterbeer, smiling shyly at her before placing his hand over hers on the table.   
  
_Ron_. There was a choice she was uneasy about. True, he was under the effects of the potion, but he had harbored feelings for her prior. And perhaps, _perhaps_ he could be the solace to her pain. Ron smiled at her and asked her if she wanted dessert, but she was too busy thinking about something else, her eyes glazed over.   
  
No, that was selfish. How could she even consider using Ron like that? She felt nothing when she kissed him, she felt nothing when he held her, she knew making love with him would become a chore.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he said leaning towards her across the table. “Is that alright?”

She nodded gently because in her most selfish part of herself she felt so alone and vulnerable. _No one_ wanted her, not Black - even without the potion he had never thought of her as anything but a girl. Surely not Snape, for now he couldn’t stand the sight of her, she was sure.   
  
Ron placed a kiss on her lips and she stirred from her dream and placed a smile on her lips. Ron was a sweet boy, and he did have good intentions, but, was this out of desperation? She looked to Ron’s gentle face and smiled more sincerely now. He was a good man.   
  
Perhaps Ron was the right choice.   
__________________________________________  
  
It was an hour after McGonagall’s infamous entrance and Snape was furiously working, breathing unevenly, working madly in a simmering rage. Black looked remorsefully to Snape, his gaze watery in the dark candlelight.  
  
“Are you alright, Severus?” Black asked uncertainly, Snape gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head.   
  
“I’m fine, just tired.”   
  
Black nodded, as if he actually believed this lie. He watched Snape furiously labor over the cauldron, his eyes rimmed with red as he had been working for several hours straight. They worked in more silence when out o nowhere Snape finally broke the silence with a short few words.  
  
“I appreciate your assistance Black,” he said softly, and looked to his old enemy. “Not everyone would have committed to this so readily and so completely.”  
  
All at once the stoic façade came back over his features and he went back to his cauldron. Black felt his breathing go uneven- this was a compliment if he ever heard one, but, he realized with a deep sigh that it wasn’t enough. Snape’s eyes were still miserable - he was thinking of _her_. Jealousy surged through Sirius, but now it was intermingled with pity.   
  
The man before him was working hastily, haphazardly putting things into the concoction. Black handed him the mandrake root and watched as the man worked with precision, his hair hanging heavily across his cheeks.   They worked again for several moments, the air filled with tension and Snape muttered under his Black randomly, telling Black to hand him this and that.  
  
Sirius sensed how forlorn he was, how every thought was dominated with images of her. He knew because he was the same way about him.  He adored him so completely and he couldn’t stand seeing him in pain like this. Sirius felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and he bit them back.   
  
"She's at Hogsmeade for the evening," Black said softly, breaking the silence.  Snape's dark eyes glittering dangerously glanced over to him.  “Ron told me earlier.”  
  
"Who, may I ask?" Snape said offhandedly, trying to look preoccupied with the two vials in his hands. Black sighed heavily as Snape looked deeply at the vials as if they held the answers to the universe.   
  
"You know exactly of whom I'm speaking," Black said roughly. His own emotions feeling all mixed about inside what he was saying. Snape shrugged, causing Black to inwardly roil.    
  
“I think,” Black said softly, not sure he was going to be able to choke it out. “I think you should go to her. Now. Before it’s too late.”  
  
Snape looked to him sharply, causing him to flinch. Snape always believed that Black had been growing close to embarrass him. To pull a prank like they had in their youth. To make his life more miserable. But now, he was openly giving up Hermione’s location, so that he himself may pursue her. How surprisingly selfless.

He turned to face Black head on, as they were at equal height. Black waited for Snape to punch him, yell at him, and tell him to mind his own business. He wasn’t quite prepared for what came next.   
  
“Thank you Black.”  
  
_What?_  
  
Snape nodded to him briefly, as Black nodded back in shock. Had Snape just thanked him? He nervously waited for him to dart off, run to Hogsmeade and claim Hermione as his forever. But instead he returned to the cauldron and went back to work, Black was about to speak when Severus beat him to it;  
  
“Thank you, but it’s futile.”


	16. The Three Broomsticks

Hermione sat at the table at the _Three Broomsticks_ leisurely eating the chocolate cake slice they had each been given in honor of Valentine’s Day. They were small and heart-shaped with red icing and they tasted _delicious_.    
  
Ron ate it more delicately that Hermione had ever noticed - very gentleman like. Black had always gobbled down his food, and Snape seemed to discreetly suck everything up like a vacuum. She smirked as the image of Snape with a vacuum mouth entered her mind; she stifled a giggle  as she thought of him though, and sighed while forcing another piece of her dessert into her mouth.  
  
“What’s so funny?”    
  
Hermione looked to Ron and shrugged with a faint smile play upon her lips. “Nothing really Ron, just thinking.”  
  
He nodded, and turned his attention briefly back to his chocolate cake and she took the opportunity to stare at his sweet face. He was a pale boy but his eyes were merry and he had that mop of red hair on his head, it was rather endearing actually.  She looked out the window to Hogsmeade and sighed wistfully looking at the random couples holding hands, laughing and shopping.  A man with dark hair walked by and Hermione’s thoughts drifted to Snape briefly as she tried to imagine him holding her hand in a public place; that would be a sight.  
  
Ron’s hand suddenly fell onto her hand lightly, and she looked to him in surprise. She was still wary, sort of nervous that he would get too exuberant, like that time in the hall.

 _Your own fault._  
  
She had to admit that this was true. Ron had just been a little overzealous, and this was her own fault for using him as a guinea pig.  
  
“You look really pretty Hermione,” Ron said softly, “I’ve thought that for a long time, but I thought – I don’t know-“  
  
“Ron, its just the potion talking,” Hermione interjected softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Ron shook his head slightly, and the pit in Hermione’s stomach dropped farther. It felt wrong – no matter how much she wanted it to fit, it was like a too-big puzzle piece.  
  
“No, Hermione, I’ve liked you a long time – even before the potion. I just never thought you’d like me like that.”  
  
“Oh, Ron, I’ve always liked you,” she said softly, as Ron cut her off.  
  
“Not like I like you ‘Mione. Well, at least I thought…”  
  
Hermione licked her lips nervously, trying to focus on what Ron was saying, but her heart was playing a rapid staccato on her ribs and she was trying to hear him over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.  She tuned in just to hear Ron was completing his speech with a clumsy;  
  
“-and,well, I’m in love with you Hermione.:  
  
He trailed off, his cheeks turning pink and leaving Hermione to look at him in new light and in a complete state of shock and disbelief.  
_______________________________________  
  
  
“Don’t you see, Black?” Snape said his voice touching on excited as they stood around the bubbling cauldron “We’ve gotten it! We’ve done it! Stop stirring!”  
  
He stopped Black from stirring the concoction, and rushed to his back room, the sounds of glass tinkering and being moved sounded out.  
  
Black wiped the sweat from his brow, and leaned against the nearby table. He tried to feel the cool invasion from the open window above him, but couldn’t quite reach it. He smiled a bit as he recalled the tall potion master’s excited eyes when the potion in the cauldron had turned a deep red color.    
  
The only things that could get Snape excited were his potions, that was for sure. Black smirked as he viewed the feared Potion’s Master rushing about and preparing for the concoction to be moved to a vial.  Severus moved to the cauldron and instructed Black to move out of the way because only he, Severus, knew how  much to ladle into a large vial.

“Fill this vial,” Snape muttered, thrusting a new empty vial into Sirius’ hands. My, my the man was demanding.  
  
Black tipped the deep red potion into a large vial, and labeled it in his own clumsy script that would as Snape’s look indicated, be changed when he left.  Snape took a smaller stopped and with careful precision took three drops into the stopper, and carefully dripped them into the thin vial he held in his almost quivering hand.  
  
This was her release, this was Hermione’s release from the bondage of Ron Weasley.

 _And from you._ _No more late-night brewing sessions. No more casual drop ins. No more reasons for interacting._   

_Oh stop it you fool.  It was Weasley the entire time. That’s the only reason she ever spent time with you. Stop being deluded._

He had merely been the professor to fix her problems. He didn’t even know that she could even really stand him! Perhaps she had been using him for his help. This angered him beyond all reason.  But he remembered her face and blush when he had spoken those words to her at the Christmas banquet, as McGonagall had surreptitiously watched with delight.  
  
“You look positively beaming, Miss Granger,” he had said gently for her ears only, and completely by accident, only because she had been.  
  
Sitting in what seemed to be her own light or aura around her that evening she had looked stunning, in her own natural way. And having her gazing up at him so tenderly he had wanted to do a manner of things to a student that were not looked well upon in such a place as Hogwarts.  
  
Then the chatter of students had surrounded them, and they were taken from their own little world and their locked eyes. Hermione had turned back to her friends and he strode off not looking back. But now, all that confidence he had  in her affection for her was dissipated. He just didn’t know what to think.  
  
Black was looking at him with a scrupulous look as he saw Snape’s dreamy look as he gazed down at the small vial in his hand.  
  
“Severus?”  
  
Snape blinked and seemed to awaken from his trance, and immediately the scowl was back. Black stepped forward and looked to Snape tenderly. For a brief and horrified second Severus was panicked that Black was going to kiss him again. Snape may have been lean and sort of muscular under those dark robes of his, but he wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking that he could take Black on. Black had been to Azkaban, Black had escaped death. Black was a _man_ _’_ _s man_. Suddenly that term gave off rare clarity.

But Black didn’t kiss him; he merely stood a few inches away, narrowed his eyes to a slightly flinching Snape and said softly;

 “Just go.”

Snape didn’t answer.  
_______________________________________  
  
“Oh, Ron,” Hermione was saying gently, trying not to hyperventilate, and gazing all around to see someone who could help her. “I think you’re just a little confused.”  
  
Ron looked near tears as she said this, and she broke off her gaze and forked more cake into her mouth, trying desperately not to say anything to make it worse.  
  
“Hermione, can you honestly say you never felt anything for me at all?”  
  
Hermione’s eyes went wide as she tried to shush him as his strangled voice was at an extremely loud pitch. The _Three Broomsticks_ was actually vacant save for she and Ron as it was rather late.

She had been going over in her mind over and over all the redeeming qualities Ron possessed, but while had many amazing qualities- none of those appealed to her on a romantic level.  Even if she took away Snape from the equation, Ron just didn’t appeal to her _like that_.  And with the knowledge of that, she gave him a sad look.

“Ron, I love you as a friend, and after all that we’ve gone through together, I will always love you. I love you for the way you’ve supported me and always been the most amazing friend. But that’s where my love ends, Ron. I don’t love you the way you need,” she was trying to remain stoic but it was quite hard when Ron was looking at her with those large, puppy dog eyes. Ron nodded, trying to make it seem as if he understood, but really it killed him. He looked to her defiantly all of a sudden.  
  
“Just one kiss then,” he said, licking his mouth in anticipation as he looked to her own full lips. “Just one kiss to prove there’s nothing there. And I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.”  
  
Hermione looked to him exasperatedly - she had done this before, the time in the hall and now she was tired, confused and just wanted to go home; right now. But she looked to Ron and his furrowed brow, and she understood how he felt - it was the way she felt when she was near Snape.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Ron nodded eagerly and leaning forward over the table he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her. Hermione took a deep breath now; leaning over slightly and kissing him as his lips enveloped hers. She wondered what Snape would do if she tried the same thing on him. Probably scream.  
  
As he awkwardly attempted to slip his tongue between her tightly pursed lips Hermione  wondered over and over how she had gotten into the predicament. She was about to pull away when something caught her off guard.  
  
“Ah Mister Weasely, Miss Granger, kissing games again?”

Hermione pulled away from Ron rather violently looking to a bitter and repulsed looking Snape standing beside their table. He was standing beside the table, evidently had just arrived or had been spying on her. His cheeks were slightly tinged with a pinkish hue, as it was a bit nippy outside, and his hair all in disarray.  
  
“Professor,” she uttered softly, looking to him confusion and shame. But why shame? It wasn’t as if he owned her. But the way he was looking to her with those angrily glittering eyes as he stared at her made her think the opposite. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you with Professor Black?”  
  
He saw her wince at the last name, and the connection suddenly was there. She had been trying to make _him_ jealous with Ron as _he_ had to her with Black. He’d just been too daft to see it! His heart gave a slight flutter and he swayed a bit, then Ron’s voice broke in.  
  
“Well, why are you here then?”  
  
Snape glared at Ron, handing him a small glass vial.

“Drink it,” was all he said, watching him and waiting. Ron didn’t do anything at first, a staring match ensued. Snape won.  
  
“What is it?” he asked tentatively, as Snape smirked and with a sideways glance at Hermione that read; _Not much of a boyfriend Miss Granger_ _;_ _afraid of his own shadow this one  
_  
“Your _salvation,_ Mr. Weasely.”  
  
Ron finally nodded and taking the vial he downed its meager contents. He was about to say something when his eyes suddenly shut and he slumped soundlessly onto the table, and promptly began snoring.  
  
Hermione looked to Snape horrified, jumping from her seat and drawing over to Ron’s side. She shook his shoulders, feeling as he was heavy in her arms.

“What did you do to him?” she stood now, looking absolutely livid. Before she could say anything more he dragged her from the table to a shadowed corner of the _Three Broomsticks_.  
  
He boxed her in, her back pressed to the cold wall as he stood with his stomach almost pressing against hers. She was muttering and nervously watching his hands, which ended up on either side above her shoulders on the wall of which she balanced on.  
  
“Listen,” Snape hissed to Hermione as she obeyed out of shock, “Now. I merely laced the potion with-“  
  
Hermione cut him off with a shrill, “He’s going to suffocate!” as she looked over his shoulder to Ron, who was face down in his chocolate cake, and not stirring much. “I can’t believe you did this, he’s your own student you bastard!”  
  
_Bastard. Great._

“Why are you doing this?” Hermione said bitingly, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “You’re always doing this!”  
  
“Doing what?”  
  
“Showing up, making me feel bad, making me. . .” she stopped here, very embarrassed and looked to him. Snape cocked his head to one side, glancing her over as if silently challenging her.  Hermione felt herself go overboard as she almost growled, throwing her hands in the air as she spoke, “You are the most manipulative, narrow minded-“  
  
“Enough,” Snape said piercingly as he waved his wand in Ron’s direction. Ron sat up and his neck slumped into his chest. He continued snoring, deep in slumber.  
  
“There. All is well. Your boyfriend is fine.”  
  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Hermione said with an angry glare at him. Snape raised an eyebrow in disbelief.  
  
“Oh, I didn’t see you two kissing furiously just now?” he asked bemused at her flushed expression.  
  
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said sullenly, her words cutting more deeply than she knew.  
  
Snape looked to the girl darkly, eyeing her up and down as she stood there between he and the all. Her chest was heaving as she breathed deeply, that small notch in her neck becoming all the more evident – a sight he enjoyed. What he didn’t enjoy was her staring angrily up at him, her arms crossed and not moving.

“You could have poisoned him. Your own student, You’ve got-“  
  
“Do you ever stop talking?” Snape said incredulously. Hermione opened her mouth in shock, not knowing what to say. She wanted to throttle the man and as her lips parted to loudly defy him, Snape seized his open opportunity.  
  
His firm, reaching lips smothered hers as she closed her eyes in complete surrender. The words she was about to speak were swept from her lips, which Snape was now licking eagerly and forcing his tongue in her almost eager mouth. She gave a small whimper as his tongue went further, tasting her mouth as he held her up with his strong arms.

There was a snorting mutter from Ron at the table and Snape pulled from Hermione quickly, he gazed at her flushed and glowing face. He suddenly remembered where he was- a public place with a student.  But then she smiled beatifically up at him, and he felt his heart leap. He couldn’t help himself – he cupped her cheek with his palm, the pad of his thumb tracing her lower lip gently. He saw the girl’s eyelids shutter at this and this emboldened him.

He stepped back, gently grasping her wrist in his large hand. He tugged her to the front desk after him. Madame Rosmerta gave him a quick once-over in surprise. He dropped Hermione’s wrist gently, gratified that the moment he did she gripped his hand tightly within hers.  
  
“I’ll be requiring a room for the night,” he said silkily to the smirking innkeeper who held out her hand for the galleons. Snape thrust his free hand into his cloak and placed the random coins on the wooden table, he tried not to appear overly eager.

 The woman smirked once more and headed into the back to get the key. Snape looked to the wobbling and dazed Hermione at his side, her hand still clutching his gently. She looked a bit disoriented and he tried to conceal a smile at the sight.  
  
“I doubt Ron’ll need a room to sleep in,”  Hermione suddenly said diplomatically, surprised that Snape himself hadn’t thought of it before. “We can just floo him back to the common room.”  
  
Snape chuckled darkly and looked to her, and uncharacteristically brushed a strand of hair from her eyes as she sighed softly. He dipped down for a quick kiss, rewarded with a gentle sigh before pulling back.

Snape regarded her with a look on his face that was positively snake-like. His eyes roamed her body and she felt herself relishing in it. Having him look at her like he wanted to ravish her was causing her to feel all manner of things – the most predominant of which was the desperate desire to go to bed with him. His dark eyes snapped back up to meet Hermione's and as if he could hear her thoughts he leaned in, his lips at her temple.  

 “The room isn’t for Mister Weasely,” he purred. “The room is for _you_ and _I_ , Miss Granger.”


	17. Teaching a Gryffindor

Minerva made her way to her chambers, humming a small tune to herself when a soft sound caught her unsuspecting ears. She drew closer to the subtle sound, trying desperately not to be heard, but evidently her shoes were too sharp and clicking because as she made her way closer to the Potions lab the sound ceased.  
  
Knowing she was already caught she pushed the door open slowly and peered inside. Cauldrons were all along the floor, ingredients upset all around and a dark figure with his arm extended and hand placed on the top of Snape’s desk. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle, pausing only as Minerva placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
  
“Oh, Minerva,” He said suddenly, in a choked voice and brushing his evident tears away he forced a smile. “How are you this evening? I’m afraid I’ve had a terrible reaction to something I ate. I was hoping Severus would have something in his stores to help.”  
  
“Sirius,” McGonagall said pityingly, her own eyes filling with tears, “you knew it could never be.”  
  
“I know Minerva,” Black said, his eyes growing glassy, “I just wanted it to be so badly.”

 He stopped there, looking back to the desk, his fingers dancing along a spare bit of parchment.

“She just makes me so angry, she doesn’t appreciate him like I do. She just makes him feel angry and miserable.”  
  
Minerva sighed softly, “That’s just it Sirius, she makes him _feel_.”

 Black looked surprised to her, she continued passionately, “she makes him mad, miserable but she also makes him happy, possessive and dare I say, loved? When’s the last time Severus had that? Lily? And look what became of him. He deserves a second chance.”  
  
“That’s a bit much,” Black said to her making a face of disgust.

“Well Sirius,” McGonagall said brashly, “I suppose we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”    
  
_________________________________________  
  
Snape wasn’t sure he liked the way Hermione was looking to him, sort of like a fish, her mouth in an ‘oh’ of surprise. Perhaps he had been too hasty - but he didn’t care, he had waited too long for this, and he was not going back on it.  
  
He had come in a mad haste to the _Three Broomsticks_ , he was almost certain that Black had been lying, a mere ruse to humiliate him, but he hadn’t. She had been there, through the window looking to Weasely in complete disgust before she reluctantly planted a restrained kiss on his over-eager lips.   
  
It had killed Severus inside to see that, his stomach suddenly dropping. He had contemplated just turning and leaving, not even going inside, but he’d _had_ to.  And thank Merlin he had, for the delightful creature was now in his arms, looking to her Professor in shock. A grown, educated, professional man was proposing she sleep with him and that wasn’t even the scariest part.

The scariest part was she _wanted_ to. Desperately.

She had ever since she realized her attraction to him, the countless daydreams and night filled fantasies. She still couldn’t find the right words. His voice cut in though, deep, dark, brooding-  
  
“I’m not suggesting sex, Miss Granger,” Snape said looking to her bemused. “Although if it is your prerogative...” he trailed off as he heard her breathing hitch.

 He looked down to her apprehensive face and smirked softly.“We can just have some tea sent up and talk if you like. I must have you alone, tonight. There’s much for us to talk about.”

The mere way he said ‘alone’ was erotic and Hermione felt that unprecedented shivers creep up her spine as she forced herself to nod. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

 _Goodness Hermione_ , she berated herself,   _Assuming the man meant sex_ _!_  

Snape nodded back and the innkeeper gave him his key, with a small breath inward, he nervously turned to the shifty Hermione.  
  
“Well, no time like the present,” he uncharacteristically bumbled, not sure exactly how to go about leading a student up to a hotel room.   
  
“Wait,” Hermione said gently, tugging at his sleeve and Severus groaned inwardly.   
  
“If you must leave Miss Granger do so now,” Snape hissed angrily, more embarrassed than angry, as she gave him an irritated look. Hermione didn’t say anything a moment, but stood at his side looking at him exasperated.   
  
“Listen Severus,” she said with a suppressed titillation of excitement - she had called him _Severus_! “If this is ever going to work you have to stop being so damned defensive. Because I was just going to say that we should send Ron home first.”  
  
_Oh._   
  
Snape felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks but he sternly nodded and with a flick of his wand, Ron was gone. He turned back to the young woman who constantly entranced him. He felt an shy smile rise upon his lips and felt relief as Hermione returned it willingly. He timidly held a cloaked arm out to her,   
  
“Shall we?”  
____________________________________________   
  
  
Ron awoke in his bed moments later and as he fell into the bed from nowhere Harry promptly fell off the bed next to his.  
  
“God Ron,” he said rubbing his now sore head as he pulled himself back onto the bed, “Did you have to do that? You scared the hell out of me.”  
  
Ron seemed in a daze, his eyes were rolling all over, as he sat up sharply. “Where am I? I was having dinner with Hermione and – oh no.”  
  
Harry looked to Ron wide-eyed. “What?”  
  
Ron looked to Harry blankly, “Snape.”   
  
“As in Professor Snape?” Harry asked in shock.   
  
“He came to the Three Broomsticks earlier this evening,” Ron rushed on, “Hermione and I were kissing, don’t look at me like that she said we would only ever be friends, and he walked in on us! He made fun of us for kissing! Like we were children!”

Harry made a face and Ron continued. “Then he gave me this potion and everything went black. I have a horrible feeling it’s just he and Hermione over there – _alone_.”   
  
Harry’s eyes suddenly went wide with recognition of something passed and he drew a shaky hand to his mouth. Ron seeing his friends blanched state ventured, “What’s the problem Harry?”  
  
Harry looked to Ron sadly, “Promise you won’t say anything Ron, but when I was talking to Sirius one day, he was forced to tell me, that he and Snape have had a bet on who could kiss Hermione first.”  
  
“BASTARDS!” Ron screamed, about to jump from the bed, Harry dragged him back down and told him to shut up before continuing,   
  
“They kissed in the storeroom and I walked in on them, but Snape walked in just after me and didn’t see anything, so he probably still thinks the bet is on!” Harry said shouting in shock.

 “This is horrible!”  
  
“Poor Hermione.”  
______________________________________________   
  
Poor Hermione indeed. She was currently sitting on the hotel bed with a most powerful wizard a few feet away who was looking at her in such a way she couldn’t comprehend and she felt as if she wanted to vomit all over the creaking floor below her feet.   
  
First of all he had shed that cloak he always wore, and was clad in those black trousers of his, with a white collared shirt with a handsome black vest buttoned overtop. He looked rather dapper and Hermione couldn’t help but take in his body rather greedily. He was a lean man, broad in shoulders but slim in stature. He had a classical and dramatic way about him.  
  
Snape had nervously started a fire for them, as it was a bit chilly. Hermione herself had comfortably seated herself on the end of the large bed, her feet planted on the floor and her hands twitching together in her lap. He kept sneaking glances over at her.   
  
He locked the door on afterthought and put wards upon it, before swiftly turning to face her and running his hands through his hair.   
  
“And how is your February so far?” he asked faltering a bit as he stood a few meters away, his hands shoved uncomfortably into his trouser pockets. “I assume you’ve been taking great pains to study for your exams.”  
  
Hermione felt a smirk climb her face, The feared professor Snape was actually nervous. The man who had played a part of the defeat of Voldemort, who had been a double spy was _nervous_ because of her!  She almost liked having a bit of power, watching him look at her sneakily gave her delightful shivers all over.   
  
“I don’t think homework is quite what I’d like to be talking about right now, if you don’t mind,” said Hermione heavily. “My N.E.W.T.S. are coming up and I’m none too pleased.”  
  
“Why not? Surely you’ve been studying?” berating her slightly seemed to make him a bit more comfortable, a bit more at his own. He drew closer to her; she sat in silence a bit.  
  
“Of course I have,” she finally said boldly, “It’s hard work is all. Potions sure isn’t as easy as I would have thought.”  
  
Of all the things she could have said.  Almost immediately she cringed. Snape’s eyes flickered and she waited in silence for him to tell her to get the hell out and never speak to him again. But he stepped closer, and sat down beside her comfortably. He looked entirely all too amused with her latest comment, and smirked openly at her.

“What made you think the art of Potion making would be easy?”  
  
Hermione was ashamed now - Snape had dedicated his life to bloody Potions and here she was telling him how she assumed it would be easy. Could she get any ruder? More arrogant?

“I never thought it would be ‘easy’ per say,” Hermione tried to reclaim the moment. “I just thought with measurements and the rather scientific approach to it, that I’d be better at it than I am.”

“Potion making isn’t just science and measurements,” he said silkily. “It’s also about creativity – finding new approaches to things.”  

“I never thought of it as creative,” Hermione offered truthfully.  “Or you, if I’m honest. You’re so exact, so precise, so methodical.”  
  
Snape shrugged modestly, “there’s a lot about me you don’t know about, Miss Granger.”  
  
“That’s the other thing,” Hermione said, still laying on her back and looking at the ceiling, “You can stop calling me Miss Granger. My name is Hermione.”  
  
Snape looked like the thought never occurred to him. “Of course, Hermione,” he said slowly and Hermione giggled. Delighted at hearing him say it and amused at how foreign it sounded coming from his rumbling chest.   
  
“At least you don’t say it; _Herm-myown-ninny_ like Viktor. God that was dreadful,” Hermione said laughing again, Snape was beginning to love it when she did.   
  
“Ah yes, the elusive Mr. Krum,” Snape said leaning his back against the wall, his legs comfortably before him on the bed. “I forgot about your little escapade with him.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbing a nearby pillow smacked him playfully with it over the head. Severus looked to her in shock, which only made her laugh harder. Escapade? She’d gone to a dance with the boy and had a few stolen kisses – did that really qualify.

“You’re funny,” she finally said gently, her smile touching her eyes as she glanced over at him. “A weird sort of funny. But I like it.”

Snape smirked and without warning he leaned over and kissed her harshly on the mouth. Hermione in shock went rigid, her body remaining almost motionless. Finally Snape broke away, looking to her quizzically.   
  
“Hermione.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Do you not like kissing me?” he asked, his voice almost hurt. Hermione sat bolt up and looked to him square in the eye, her knees coming to press against his upper thigh on the bed.

“No!”

“I can’t help but notice that every time I touch you, you tremble away from me. Every time I kiss you, you go stiff.”

“It’s not because I don’t want to feel you,” her eyes dropped now, her cheeks pink. “If I’m being honest, when you touch me I can barely breathe. I’m so excited and scared. And when you kiss me - you’re just really quite good at it and, well, I’m not.”

She felt humiliated as she admitted this. He was going to laugh her right out of the room, and she waited for it.  
  
“Then let me teach you.”  
  
Hermione didn’t even have a chance to respond to this before he had drawn her lips to his again. Hermione’s eyes shut as he pulled back a bit, his kisses not so demanding. His lips lightly touched hers at first, and she kissed back with soft and light kisses, before Severus pulled her away slightly.

“Slower,” he said tenderly before his eyes closed again and he titled his head to meet her lips. This time she waited for his mouth to take hers. And it did.   
  
His mouth opened and closed occasionally, and Hermione tried to stroke his hair as well as holding his free hand, as the other was cupping her head and drawing it to his. They broke away and Snape looked to Hermione with a bemused expression on his face. Hermione looked to him indignantly.    
  
“What did I do wrong this time?” Hermione asked licking her lips and waiting for him to tell her she was a lost cause.   
  
“Nothing,” he said looking at her carefully, as if she were one of his Potions. “I just want to teach you something new.”


	18. True Confessions

  
“What are we going to do?” Ron was wailing as he made his way down to the kitchen, Harry had talked him into eating something before he made himself sick.   
  
“I should never have told her I was in love with her,” Ron said miserably. “Never. Even under the influence of the potion.”  
  
Harry looked to Ron confused, “Potion?”  
  
“Yeah. Hermione made a lust potion for-“ Ron said distractedly before he stopped short and Harry nodded, waiting for him to go on. “Err, nothing.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, “Tell me Ron.”  
  
Ron looked worriedly to his friend, feeling a pang of guilt go through him. “Promise you won�t get mad?”

“No.”

“Fair enough,” Ron sighed. “Hermione made a lust potion to try out on your Uncle. As soon as she sprayed it on him, the first person he saw he was supposed to fall in love with. But instead of Hermione, Snape got in the way-“  
  
Harry looked sick to his stomach, “That’s why he was kissing Hermione. He wasn’t trying to win some bet. In some bizarre way he was trying to make Snape _jealous_.”  
  
Ron nodded, “and well, Hermione tried it out on me, so she could get Snape’s help without getting into trouble. So the last few months they’ve been brewing an antidote so your uncle can go back to normal. And I already loved her before this whole thing happened, the potion just gave me the courage to tell her. Shame I did though.”

Ron sighed and looked over to his very obviously wounded friend.  “Really sorry we couldn’t tell you Harry, I feel terrible.”

“So then Snape came to give the antidote tonight?” Harry said, ignoring the deception of his friends.

“Yeah.”

Harry’s brows knitted in concern, his green eyes flashing as he looked to Ron.

“So then why isn’t Hermione back yet?”  


***  
  
Snape looked to her questioning eyes, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as he uttered the words, “I’d like to teach you something new.”   
  
Hermione finally spoke gently.

“I’d like to learn.”  
  
At this Snape’s two hands snaked out swiftly and drew her close, until she was almost sitting on his lap. She gulped nervously and looked to him expectantly. His fingers suddenly began untying her robe and dragging it over her head.   
  
She heard the robe fall on the floor beside them, but faintly,  background noise to the soundtrack of her heart and her breathing. His black eyes never lefts hers and she realized just how entrancing those eyes of his were; his dark lashes framed them beautifully.

“I want to teach you to succumb to pleasure,” he said in a low voice that had Hermione struggle to hold in a whimper. “I want you to stop thinking and just _feel_.”

He took her hands in his and dragged them over to his vest, which he helped her unbutton before carelessly shrugging it off of him. They sat in silence a bit; the only sound was the chatter from the people at the bar below. Hermione was growing increasingly apprehensive and she looked into the depths of Severus eyes and spoke quietly.   
  
“I’m nervous.”

“I know,” he replied in a silken tone. “And the minute you want to stop, say it. I’ve no interest in pushing you to a level you’re uncomfortable with.”

Hermione seemed to visibly relax at this, the tension around her mouth gone and sliding into a soft smile. “Alright.”  
  
He nodded and tossed his wand beside him on the bedside table. He looked back to her and saw she was trying to unzip her dress at the back, rather unsuccessfully. Snape smiled gingerly and with a dark voice said “please allow me.”  
  
Hermione let out a short sort of whimpering sigh of arousal before nodding, and turning her back to him. He luxuriously slid the zipper of her dress, which lead down to the middle of her back. He stopped and stroked the bare flesh that shone gold in the firelight.   
  
She shivered at the coldness of his hands, yet she didn’t want him to ever stop. She felt her stomach shaking as he continued his faint touches before she felt him slide the top of her dress over her shoulders and out her arms. She had her back to him, a small black strapless brassiere the only item on her upper body.

He felt himself quaking inside as he almost in a trance lowered his wanting lips to the curve where her neck and shoulders met. Hermione felt the feathery kisses on her back, and suddenly wished she were more experienced, and more pretty and smarter and everything, but Snape seemed to like her just as she was.  
  
His hands were tracing down her arms on either side, as his mouth continued around her neck and shoulders. Suddenly he drew her to face him, trying to remain calm. He kissed her collar now, his hair ticking her face, as she felt herself arch involuntarily.   
  
He took his time, now drawing back to look at her divine face and sweet lips. Her hair was tousled freely around her, and he suddenly wanted to just watch her. But something stronger willed him to go on and to touch her more.   
  
Her eyes were half-open in a sort of dazed and excited state as leaned into her. He gently helped her to a lying position on the bed, as he almost leaned on her. His lips were busy with her own and one hand traveled down her clothed thigh until his feathery touch reached her bare knee. He felt her legs shake.    
  
_Too fast_ , he berated himself. He took his hand away from her knee and drew his hands back up to her face, cupping it and kissed her harshly now, as it was almost too much for him. She felt his clothed erection rubbing against her legs and felt herself shake in recognition that it was _she_ who had caused him to become so aroused. This powerful wizard kissing her so reverently wanted her as much as she wanted him.  

“More,” Hermione begged between kisses. “Teach me more.”

He growled now, savagely kissing her harder, his tongue now thrusting in over and over, and his hands cupping her clothed breasts until a snap later they were free his lean hands. She moaned as the air hit them, and he kissed each nipple with tenderness before licking in-between each, and up until he reached the hollow of her throat.   
  
He stopped a bit, letting her catch her breath and realize what she was doing. He hadn’t meant to move so fast, that was for sure. She looked beautiful half-naked in the moonlight that was now cascading into their small room.   
  
“Severus,” she said softly, her forefinger coming to trace his jaw. Her lips were swollen from their kisses and her chest flushed under his prior ministrations. She seemed to want to say more, as he stroked her hair, but instead bit her lip and started something else.   
  
"Who told you I'd be here?" Hermione said with a grin that Snape was already beginning to get used to. He traced one finely sculpted finger down her naked forearm, subconsciously licking his full lips as he grinned wickedly at her.

“Who’s to say I wasn't spying on you?" he said in such a way it caused Hermione to shiver slightly. He bent his neck down and kissed her collar gently. She sighed contentedly.   
  
"Were you?" she said, secretly delighted that he may have been. She smiled as he pulled back, gently sighing himself.  
  
"No," he chuckled darkly, "Black told me you'd be here."  
  
He felt Hermione go rigid beside him in the bed, and he looked to her confused at the grimace on her face. "What's the matter?"   
  
"Professor Black told you to come to me?" Hermione said in a rushed and surprised voice, all that Snape could do was nod. Hermione didn't speak after that, and she felt Snape's gaze on her narrow.   
  
“Why?”  
  
“Why what?”  
  
“Don’t play games with me,” Snape said, feeling his entire body thrumming with anticipation of pain.   


 “Forget it, please Severus.”  
  
Snape was too on edge now, he was looking at her with a fierce look in his eyes. “Tell me. Now.”  
  
Hermione now angry herself looked to him, and placidly replied with a short and soft: “I supposed that the potion must have worn off.”  
  
There was a look of confusion that flashed in his eyes before he answered.

“Potion?” he said roughly, pulling from their embrace, he was sitting up on the bed, his hair tousled but not hiding that angry glare that radiated from him. “Go on, Miss Granger.”  
  
Hermione felt her heart drop as he referred to her as 'Miss Granger', and suppressed the urge to start crying. It'd do no good to start whining now, he was past pity and she had her pride to think of.

"It was me who snuck into your private storage that night," she started as Severus nodded as if he had known it all along - which she suspected he did. Hermione at first felt she couldn't speak, but she but then had to press on.  
  
“I made the lust potion for Professor Black. I sprayed it on him and he was supposed to fall in lust with the first person he saw. But you got in the way that time at breakfast, and so he fell in lust with you.”

Snape took a sharp breath, his eyes growing colder with every moment she spoke. She felt herself trembling and she hurriedly pulled the blanket up around her half-naked body, suddenly ashamed to be seen by him.

 “I needed your help but I knew you’d get mad at me if I told you I’d used it on Professor Black. So I asked Ron to help me. Ron was a guinea pig. I used him to pretend he needed the potion because I needed your help.”  
  
Snape was livid now, his jaw was clenched so very tight Hermione could see the muscles shaking with anger and he almost trembled with rage. Hermione felt suddenly frightened beyond all rational belief and she leaned back a bit as Snape spoke darkly.   
  
“So you thought you’d use me.”  
  
Hermione shot up to protest, the blanket dropping. She realized her chest was bare and suddenly she felt truly vulnerable now, lying half-naked next to him in this giant bed. How funny that moments before she was in complete and utter contentment, and couldn't have felt safer but now didn't even want him to look at her.   
  
“It wasn’t like that,” she pleaded, noticing him moving farther and farther from her, “I didn’t know you, I didn’t know I’d-“   
  
“Enough Miss Granger.”  
  
He was sitting on the edge of the bed now, pulling on his vest and boots. Hermione wrapped the blanket around her torso, and grasped at his arm.   
  
"Please. Don't leave."   
  
He felt a lump fall into his throat as he tried to swallow. Her lies from the start were what had killed him. He pulled away harshly from her grasp and made his way to the door. She couldn't protest. He heard her faint sobs and knew they were for him.   
  
He didn’t look back.


	19. Harsh Truth

 If there were one word to describe Hermione Granger at this very moment it would be; heartbroken. And at the knowledge that she cared deeply for her surly professor, she felt the keen stab of rejection. This was not helping her current predicament, as she paced in her Head Girl’s quarters, her eyes puffy from crying. Why did she have to go and fall for a vicious and vindictive man like Severus?  
_  
It was you who lied. If you hadn_ _’t lied, none of this would have happened_   
  
“I know,” Hermione wailed to herself, “I never should have done something so selfish and so very . . . Stupid.” The last word came out in a choked sob as she fell to her bed, her body racking with sobs.   
  
The rain fell outside in torrents, the grounds of Hogwarts were bleak and gray looking, and she hated it.  She hated everything and every one. But mostly she hated herself for doing something as silly as a Lust Potion. Why did she have to care for  him so much? Why did it hurt so badly? Had she cared for him all along? Had he really made his way into her heart so deeply that it pained her to think of anyone else?   
  
Yes.   
  
She flopped over and started a fire to warm her shaking and shivering body, but the warmth held nothing. She couldn’t feel anything, she was numb. She now comprehended the writings of love lost, and was angered that after everything she still cared for him. She wondered if he even cared.   


***   
  
He did.   
  
At the very moment he was in his classroom, hurriedly writing on some parchment and ignoring the tittering of the class around him. Suddenly a small ball of paper bounced onto his head to the floor and he roared, standing and glaring at the group of first years who should have known better.  Their eyes were wide with fear as he bent to pick up the offending parchment.   
  
“Detention for whoever threw this,” he said producing the small crumpled parchment, his eyes darkening as he opened it. Inside in messy printing were tons of heart shapes, inside which four initials resided,   
  
J.K + R.L.   
  
Stupid initials that had nothing to do with him, but he felt a pang go through him as he recalled the day he had almost show Black that incessant love declaration Hermione had written in secret about him. How even then he was jealous beyond all natural reason.   
  
“Get out,” he muttered to the class, who scurried from his classroom without a moments hesitation. Snape threw the parchment into the trash bin, and flopped crestfallen into his chair.He had tried not thinking about her, but that was all too stupid, the more one tries not to think of someone, all the more the person will.   
  
He set to work marking parchment, determined to keep his mind off of Hermione. Which was all going as relatively well until he reached her essay. He frowned as he saw her name and disgustedly pushed himself away from the desk and to the window where he saw the bleak landscape of Hogwarts in the rain.   
  
Hours later there was a short rap at his door, as Sirius entered, looking peaked. He came in with short, halted steps and faltering smile with every step he took reluctantly forward.   
  
“Hello Severus,” he said nervously, “you wanted to see me after my morning class? Did all go well, last night?”  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow and offered him a seat, which Black took obligingly, smiling nervously as he awaited his news. Somewhere faintly in his heart he hoped Snape would tell him it was all a rouse, and that he loved Black all along.   
  
Snape looked almost bashfully to Black, his dark eyes more solemn than usual. “Black, I’m about to tell you something you might not want to hear.”  
  
Black looked to him quizzically, as Snape told the tale of Hermione’s misfiring potion, as Black listened in quite intensity. When Snape finally finished, Black leaned back, eyes wide and in complete shock.   
  
“I don’t believe you,” he said holding a shaking hand to his mouth, “I just don’t. The way I feel for you is _real_. I don’t believe it.”  
  
“Well, believe it or not, Black,” Severus said standing and holding out a small vial to him. “Here’s the antidote. And don’t blame Miss Granger, she’s young and fool hearty. A schoolgirl with a crush”

Black nodded, his eyes on the vial as something came to him,

“Severus, if it was you that I saw that morning doesn’t that mean you were also infected a bit as well? Not as much as me, of course, but. . .”

He trailed off and Snape felt his stomach suddenly jump unpleasantly. What the man was saying was completely correct. Had all this ridiculous sentiment he felt for the girl been a result of the remnants of a lust potion? Had he inhaled some of that blasted spray.

“You _want_ it to be the potion,” Black observed from behind dark eyes. Snape fixed him with a calculating look, indicating that the man should drink from the vial in his hand.

With a deep breath Sirius held his breath and downed the sickly sweet antidote. He felt the thrumming in his heart slow, his eyes become more focused as he stared at the greasy git before him raising a questioning eyebrow.   
  
“Well?”

“I find you utterly repulsive,” Black said flatly, viewing as Snape’s mouth curled into a sneer.

“Good.”

With that, Sirius placed the glass vial onto the table with a clink before nodding once more to Snape, looking to him with an inscrutable look before he headed out the door, pausing only to throw over his shoulder.

“I don’t think it was the potion for you,” Sirius said. “For what it’s worth.”

Snape said nothing as Black left the room. He waited until the door was closed securely before going over to his private stores and pulling down another one of the vials holding the antidote to the potion.  He’d kept some on reserve – thinking he may need it for some foolish student in the future. He had no idea that he’d be the one to drink it.

He tipped the vial back and waited.   
__________________________________________  
  
To say things went back to normal would be a lie. Too many bridges were crossed, too many feelings declared, too much information all around.  The weeks passed with tension all around, graduation was growing closer and closer along with N.E.W.T.S.  The dreary weather of Hogwarts seemed to match the mood of many at Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron were barely speaking; Harry and Hermione were getting on better. Hermione refused to go near Snape save for class.  
  
And she hadn’t seen Black until this very moment in the Library. He had taken a few weeks off of teaching and few knew why. Now he sauntered down the aisles, looking at the various titles and chuckling to himself on occasion. She heard him chuckling and glanced up, seeing his image through the open gaps between the dusty volumes, and felt her heart give a patter. He gave her a heartfelt smile,

“Hello Hermione. I’ve not seen you outside of class for a while. Been busy studying have you?”

To any outsider it would sound like boring everyday speech, but it touched Hermione. She grasped him into a welcoming hug. There had been nothing vindictive about his words. The potion had obviously been administered weeks ago and she could see no residual malice or anger in his eyes.   
  
“I’m so sorry,” she said passionately, her heartfelt sentiment bringing a tear to his eye. She wasn’t the young little girl he knew. But he didn’t see her in that certain way Severus did. He nodded, accepting her apology instantly.

“All is forgiven,” Sirius said, giving her a fatherly chuck under her chin. “I have a feeling you’ve suffered enough without my scolding.”

Hermione gave him a watery smile, falling into step with him as they walked down the corridor out the library.  They began to talk of classes and exams and before long Hermione was starting to feel like her old self. They entered the Library moments later talking jovially between themselves, paying no heed to the figure in the shadows that watched them.

  
***

Days later the rain still continued pouring down. It barely stopped and yet a small figure sat near the lake this one gray day; Her dark hair, normally bushy was down her back in sopping wet curls. As was her robe, and socks and shoes.  She hadn’t bothered casting a warming spell –deciding that she wanted to feel the cold of the day.

She didn’t seem to care though, if you saw her you’d think she were insane. A lost look in her eyes as she mumbled to herself, words you wouldn’t catch. She had been humiliated again by Snape; the man she tried to convince herself she felt nothing for.   
  
_“Today we are working on a paralyzing potion,” Snape had been saying to his 7th year class that morning, Hermione Granger included. She sat at her desk nonchalantly, writing notes and obeying what he said. She had done this routinely since February and that evening she’d never forget._

 _“Now, I know few of you will even manage to accomplish this simple task,” Snape said with a direct glance at a shaking Neville. “But I expect nothing but the best._ _”  
  
Hermione snorted lightly a moment, a small one to herself at his supreme pompous attitude. Too loud. For now he swooped down the aisles and came to her seat. She no longer sat at the front of the class anymore, too risky.  Ron and Harry sat on either side of her, for their friendship had mended, and they stiffened when they viewed Snape approach.   
  
__“May I ask what is so amusing Miss Granger?_ _” he had asked venomously, sneering at her and making her flinch a bit.  
  
__“Nothing sir,” she said placidly looking at him hollowly, trying to quell the thrum of her heart._ _“Nothing at all._ _”  
  
__“Hmmmm, nothing at all. Sounds like what_ _’s up there in your head  these days, Granger. Nothing,” he saw her choke back tears and drew back._ _“Now stop doodling and pay attention._ _”_  
  
He hated her – that much was certain. She wondered how it could be so easy for him when it felt most impossible for her? It was made even worse every day that she saw him at meals, in his class, in the halls. In almost all these instances he ignored her resolutely and when she caught his eyes the gaze he returned was cool and detached.  In his classes he was caustic and cruel and he made her feel so ridiculous for caring so much for him – and frustrated that she couldn’t seem to stop.

Now beside the lake she heard the faint buzzing, like the sound of a bee in a glass jar. She shook her groggy head and looked to her side.  It was Ron, standing beside her with a large magic umbrella over her head. Warming her and keeping the rain off her head.   
  
“Hermione,” Ron said looking at her queerly, “What are you doing out here? In the rain?”  
  
Hermione looked blankly up to Ron, who looked to her pensively, “I like the rain.”  
  
Ron sighed, sitting beside her on the mushy earth and not caring. “Hermione, it can’t be about Black, can it? Everything’s fixed.”  
  
“Not everything Ron,” she said melancholy, forcing a smile onto her lips. Ron frowned at this, holding her hand in his suddenly, warming it.  
  
“Wha’s the problem? In love with Snape now?” he asked and was surprised as Hermione drew her hand away quickly. She had never really told Ron and Harry what had happened that night, and they had known better than to ask.  
  
“Actually Ron,” she said detachedly. “I am.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
She looked to Ron’s confused face and with a deep and ragged breath went into her long winded story of lust, love, lost love and so forth until she was blubbering and allowing Ron to hold her to him and stroke her hair soothingly.   
  
“Oh Hermione,” he said passionately, “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”   
  
“How could you know, Ron?” Hermione said crying slightly less now, “I gave you and Black the potion, I asked for it. You did nothing but help me and I was horrid to you.”

“You weren’t,” Ron shook his head, “and you didn’t ask to fall in love.”   
  
Hermione shrugged, “no one really does Ron, it just happens.”  
  
Ron nodded as if he knew what she meant, and held her with a brotherly comfort, looking out at the lake covered in mist. But he was angry. Angry with Snape for being that conniving, rat bastard, immature prick that he was so often, and for breaking poor and defenseless Hermione Granger’s heart.

Alright, poor and defenseless was not the words he would ever attribute to Hermione- but seeing her there in the cold, soaked to the bone and shivering he couldn’t help but feel she was more than unusually vulnerable.   


“Hermione, I’m going to tell you something,” Ron sighed deeply, mentally wondering if he should continue. “ I’m telling you this because I think you need to know. It’s about Snape.”  
  
Hermione looked to Ron apprehensively, her dark eyes watering from the rain or was it tears?   
  
“What is it?”


	20. Never

Ron made his way to Harry’s room, his heart beating like a jackhammer as he raced to his bedside.   
  
“Harry,” se said to his napping friend. “Wake up.”  
  
“ _Nhfa no Malfoy, you don_ _’t have to put your clothes back on_ _,”_ Harry murmured in his sleep. Ron looked repulsed a moment then shook his friend harshly, until two green eyes stared up at him. He saw his pale and freckled friend looking down at him, his face and body completely covered in brown.

“Ron,” Harry said, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked rapidly. “What’re you doing? And why are you covered in mud?”  
  
“It’s about Hermione,” Ron said, mentally filing the Malfoy comment away for later discussion. “I need your help.”

Harry brought himself to a sitting position, gripping his glasses from the bedside and popping them onto his face. Now Ron’s face was in better focus and the boy looked completely beside himself.

_This can’t be good._

“Why? What’s wrong with Hermione?”

“I think she went to tell off Black,” Ron said with a guilty look in Harry’s direction. “For making that bet with Snape.”

Harry nearly leapt out of bed at that comment, his mouth tight with irritation. “How did she find out?”  
  
Ron didn’t like that look in Harry’s eye and promptly told him of how he found Hermione heartbroken at the side of the lake in the pouring rain and how he felt compelled to tell her.   
  
“How did she take it?” Harry asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“She was like a rabid animal,” he admitted. “When I tried to stop her she pushed me down. Me! I’m on the bloody Quidditch team! All she does is read books!”

“And you think she went to Black?” Harry said pulling on some trousers while Ron averted his eyes and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, she was going in that direction, I think,” Ron rationalized. “I couldn’t really tell, I was face-down in a mud puddle.”  
  
“We’d better help him,” Harry said pulling on a jumper and then his robes. “When Hermione gets angry she’s really quite frightening.”

“Agreed.”

They made their way down the hall to Black’s room and rapped on the door nervously. There was shuffling and then heavy footsteps. A moment later a very bouncy Black came over to the two boys, a smile on his face. Evidently it was good to have his life back. He invited the two young men into his study.  
  
“Would you care for some tea?” he asked poliktely. As Harry and Ron exchanged looks of confusion as Harry gripped the edge of his chair. Obviously Hermione hadn’t been here – if she had, Sirius wouldn’t be as upbeat as he was.  
  
“Actually, Sirius,” Harry said nervously. “We were wondering if you’d seen Hermione? I’m afraid Ron here told her about the bet.”  
  
Black stiffened and faced Ron in a thunderstorm of anger, dropping his teacup in shock. It clattered to the floor at their feet but Sirius didn’t even notice. Instead he’d leaned over until he was eye-level with Ron and a look of anger on his face.

“WHY IN MERLIN’S NAME WOULD YOU DO THAT!?”  
  
Ron near tears retold the story of Hermione by the lake, pining over Snape and the boys noticed as Black softened at this. His own eyes filled with tears that he angrily brushed away, a torrent of confliction emotions playing through him.  
  
“Poor Hermione, poor Severus,” he murmured, then looking at the two young men he winced as he spoke next. “There was no bet.”

***

Snape was in the middle of finishing an annotation in his logs when the door to his laboratory flew open and a very wet and very angry Hermione Granger stormed in. Her hair was in sopping tangles with parts sticking to her cheeks as she rushed into the dark room in barely contained rage. Snape’s body that had been hunched over the cauldron now went as stiff as a board.  
  
“What-“  he started when Hermione cut him off viciously.   
  
“So that was it?” she shouted, slapping parchment from his desk onto the floor. Snape watched this display before he stood angrily giving her a most fearsome glare. He had to maintain control here – clearly the girl had gone feral.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Miss Granger?”

“We’re going to talk,” Hermione demanded a strange and quite manic look in her dark eyes.

“Your attitude is most inappropriate,” Snape replied silkily, his eyes roving her drenched face. He watched as a droplet ran the length of her nose before dripping onto the floor between them. She didn’t notice, instead she laughed maniacally at his words, disconcerting him.

She spoke suddenly. “Oh, I see, I’m in the wrong here? You, a professor made a bet with Sirius Black – another professor- about _me_ , but _I_ _’m_ the one in the wrong?”  
  
“What are you blathering about?” Snape replied, his voice a whisper and his chest tight. “What bet?”  
  
Hermione’s dark eyes narrowed on his tall frame across the room.“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t make a bet with Sirius on who could kiss me first? I’m not daft Professor, and now I understand the encounter at the _Three Broomsticks_.”

“Excuse me?”

“Feigning ignorance? Really, I expected more from you,” Hermione said snidely. “The hotel room makes sense now; I suppose if you’d bedded me that you’d get more galleons from Professor Black? Was that it?”

Snape stood in blown back shock; she actually thought she had been the subject of a bet? He was angry now. Angry that she couldn’t see past such an obvious lie, angry that she was so arrogantly standing there before him and angry that and was coming in here and raging at him after all she had put him through with that blasted love potion!   
  
“You were never a bet I made with Sirius Black,” Severus hissed dangerously. “I kissed you of my own volition. A mistake, yes, but one I made entirely on my own.”

“A mistake,” Hermione said flatly, trying to stop the pang in her heart at that one simple word. Snape saw her falter and knew he had to explain.

“It is a mistake for _any_ professor to kiss a student,” Snape replied bitterly.

 “You’re lying,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “You’re saying this to distract me, but it won’t work. I know you made a bed about me with Sirius Black. How could you act so cruelly to me when you’d done something so much worse!?”

Snape looked like he were a cobra reading itself to strike, his entire body still save for his glittering eyes.    
  
“I never made a bet with Black, Miss Granger. I can give you my solemn word. In fact I’d willingly take Veritaserum if it would satiate your accusations.”  
  
Hermione didn’t speak, and now she felt a bit disoriented, perhaps sitting outside in the rain hadn’t been a wise decision. A short phrase of something along the lines of ‘ _not having enough sense to come out of the rain_ ’ came to mind.   
  
“Then why would Ron say Harry had told him that? Why would Black lie?” she needed to understand why he would start this. Snape sighed restlessly shifting in his seat, wishing he _had_ been under the lust potions effects. Then he wouldn’t have this strange thrumming in his chest, this bizarre need to clutch the girl to him.

No, he needed to get a grip. He was the adult here. And he needed her to see sense and then leave.  He needed her far from him. He needed to not be thinking of his student in such a fashion. But she needed to know the truth – she would be able to spot a lie.   
  
“Under the influence of your lust potion, Professor Black was behaving as a hormonal teenage boy, Miss Granger,” Snape snapped. “And in so he was jealous and he reverted to spilling lies to capture my affections, which were obviously not in his favor.”   
  
Hermione didn’t know exactly what to say she was overcome as it all settled into place. Hermione didn’t speak but looked to Professor Snape, waiting for him to finish and tell her to leave. Waited for him to order her from his sight for wasting his time. But he didn’t speak.  Instead Snape came out from behind his desk, his shuttered eyes gazing at her.

Hermione watched as he slowly made his way over to her, his arms crossed and his cloak all about him, and looked at her eyes intently, causing her to flinch.   
  
“You’re wet.”  
  
Hermione blinked a minute, surprised at this statement. “I was out in the rain.”  
  
Snape stepped closer and gave her a disapproving look. “Why?”   
  
She shrugged, and all the anger that she held over him was back. He’d been ignoring her resolutely the last few months and now suddenly he was all kind and patient? He didn’t actually care about the pain she was going through – why was he acting like he cared now?

“Why did you kiss me then if it wasn’t a bet?” Hermione held her breath, finally speaking the words aloud but terrified of his reply.

She looked to the man and could see the inner turmoil in his eyes, his mouth twitching in thought as he raced to formulate a logical reason for his behavior. But nothing came to him.

“I wanted to,” Snape replied simply, trying to stop the pink that wanted to rush to his cheeks. His eyes shuttered when Hermione gave a loud and contemptuous snort, giving him the most disdainful look he’d ever been at the receiving end of.

“Lies!” Hermione rasped, wiping the tears from her face. “You expect me to believe that Severus Snape, the same man that called me an insufferable know-it-all wanted to kiss me?”

Snape wasn’t answering, wasn’t moving, this wasn’t a good sign.  She swallowed nervously, watching as his glittering eyes took her in.

 “I can’t explain it myself,” he finally replied darkly.  “I thought I might have been affected by the lust potion as well as Black. I gave myself the antidote.”

It was true. After Black had left Snape had resolutely taken the antidote, silently beseeching any gods that would listen to relieve him of this fixation with the girl.

Hermione licked her lips nervously. “And?”

He said nothing, but instead stepped forward, thankful that she didn’t walk away from him. Instead she watched as his tall form glided over to her, closing the empty space between them. He sat on the stool nearby, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wanted it to be the potion,” he admitted quietly. Hermione could see from the disappointment in his eyes that this was not the case. Suddenly Hermione could see the vulnerability that soothed his rough edges, the hands that had held her so gently against him. And she could see the inner turmoil of a man, a teacher, that felt something for his student. The ethical bind he was in and the repulsion he felt for his behavior.

“Severus-“ Hermione began, the softening of her heart touching her words. But Snape was still flinty, his eyes cooly appraising her.

“But aside from all of that, you lied to me about the potion,” Snape finally said quietly.

 “You didn’t let me explain,” Hermione insisted. “I _wanted_ to tell you everything.”

“I was in no mood for that,” Snape said, furious with the petulance that leaked into his words.

“I understand,” Hermione acknowledged, looking at her feet in shame. “And I admit, when all of this started I wanted Professor Black to take an interest in me. To see me as more than Harry’s smart friend. I was so tired of being seen as just the smart sidekick. After the war, I felt like I’d grown up so much since then and none of the boys here understood – they all seemed so . . . _Young_ and immature. I wanted a man like Sirius Black to _want_ me.”

 Snape said nothing, his eyes and face giving nothing away as she continued.

“And somewhere along the way when we were working together I realized how stupid I’d been to fancy Professor Black,” Hermione was trying to stop the tremble in her voice as she spoke. “And the more I got to know you, the more I looked forward to working with you. The more I wanted to spend time with you and talk with you. And when you took me upstairs into that room above the _Three Broomsticks_ it was more than I could have ever hoped for. It was everything I’d ever wanted. I only wish I’d realized how I felt about you sooner, then this entire stupid predicament wouldn’t have happened.”

There, she’d said it. She’d told him how she felt and she felt her legs becoming rubber as she stood there before him. He was sure to say something snide and cruel, but at least he would know her true feelings. She watched from under her fringe as he sat on the stool, staring at her with an unreadable look on his face.  Her cheeks blotched pink in humiliation and Snape watched as the girl raised her chin defiantly; she’d come for answers and gotten them.  

“Well, now you know the truth,” she said primly. “And I should leave. Goodnight, Professor.”

Snape said nothing,  but he stood abruptly from the stool and stalked towards her. His intense gaze alone stopping her from leaving the classroom. He couldn’t have her leave – not now. Not after what she’d said with such conviction.

“Miss Granger,” Snape breathed, his eyes never leaving hers. “ _Hermione_.”  
  
He saw her shiver under his voice caressing her first name. He felt his entire body thrumming with energy as he allowed himself one gentle and restrained fingertip to trace the shape of her jaw. Hermione’s eyes fluttered at the contact and her entire body turned electric.  She wanted to flee, but a much larger part of her wanted to stand here, warmed by his touch and his gaze. She raised her eyes to his in subtle challenge.

“Are you going to let me go?”  
  
Snape didn’t move, but she knew his answer and as the crackling desire shot through her. She knew that perhaps she should be scared, but instead felt enthralled when he finally spoke.    
  
“Never.”


	21. Goodbye

Despite the knowledge that she was still a student and it was remarkably wrong, Snape gathered Hermione Granger into his arms and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

Their bodies were moulded against one another. Hermione could feel the heat of his body through his robes. His mouth was desperate and yearning and she wanted him completely.

_He’s your professor._

“We shouldn’t,” Hermione said breathlessly. She said this with conviction, but her everything else was telling him to move faster, to stop teasing her.

He pressed her further to the wall, until he felt her hipbones align with his, and her breasts pressed against his cloak under their separate clothing. She tried her best not to moan at the contact.

“Do you truly want me to stop, Miss Granger?” he asked huskily, slipping his forefinger over her trembling lips and then pulling away.  
  
“…No,” Hermione murmured, her eyelids dropping as Snape kissed her reverently on her burning lips. She wanted more of him and he of her.

Their clothing. That was the problem.

He grasped the front of her cloak and whirled it over her head, while she still attempted to undo the buttons of his vest. They were both breathing heavily, and Snape’s black eyes were suddenly flashing.

With one forceful hand, he ripped the front of her blouse with ease. He fingered the straps of her creamy bra, and looked greedily at what he would soon he tasting. With his eyes burning into hers, he slipped on hand up under her bra, gracing her nipples until they hardened and she involuntarily moaned.

His dark hair was all she could see as he kissed her collar excruciatingly slow, he heard her moaning and knew she would not fight any longer. She wanted him just as badly as he did her.

His hands traveled up her pleated skirt where she tried frantically to pull from him as he hastily pulled her knickers off. There was a small gasp from her as he met her eyes and she bashfully turned her face from his. She was surprised at herself for wanting him.  
  
“We shouldn’t do this,” She whispered, not meaning it, her eyes clenched tightly. “I’m your student.”

“Not for much longer,” Snape shook his head and lowered his hand between her thighs; circling and watching her expression go from nervous to enchanted arousal.  Her eyelids fell shut and she surrendered to the delightful feeling of his fingers dancing between her netherlips, causing her hips to jump in obscene pleasure. She bit her lip to stop the aching moans slip out.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured against her ear.

Her eyes opened lazily as he spoke and she remembered where she was and why. She looked over to Snape, confused as how she’d gone from fury to completely boneless desire in the span of minutes. But before she could think of anything more, she felt the delightful pleasure building between her legs.

“Yes,” Snape urged quietly against her jaw as he kissed there. “Don’t hold back.”

 She came then, loudly and with her head tilted back. Snape watched in reverence as the girl cried out in pleasure. Pleasure bestowed by _him_. Had he ever truly made a woman look like that? When she finally came down, her unfocussed eyes settled on his face.

“I need you inside me.”

In one swift movement he had knocked everything off the desk with his arm and then rather seductively placed her on top of it, pinning her down. She felt weak from her jubilant release only seconds before. But she felt renewed and she needed to have him.

His dark eyes were flashing as his robe and trousers came off, and she felt his excitement brushing past her thigh. Her breathing was short now, as she was nervous and pensive and curious. This would be her first time and she’d had no time for preparation from books. This was adventure.  He was on top of her, his body tensed like a jungle cat.

Their lips were inches away, and she felt herself growing more and more anxious.  Why was he taking so long? 

“Are you sure you want this?”

Hermione almost laughed. Did she want this? She was desperately aching for him!  Now she was looking up at him with doe like eyes and he felt himself melt. But another larger part observed that he didn’t deserve her.

Hermione must have seen the grief flash in his eyes as she suddenly lifted her head an inch or so and pressed her lips to his. He didn't react at first, he was in a state of inner shock, but then as her hips bumped against his as if informing him she was ready, he kissed her back in the way he had at the three Broomsticks, eyes closed with gentle caresses.

Electricity shot from her nipples down to her most sensitive of areas, and she shook with an involuntary spasm of anticipation.

He traced a palm between their bodies, delighting in the sight of her body covered in gooseflesh. He watched as the air hit her ample breasts and enticed he suckled each of her erect nipples before slowly moving back to her lips.

“Are you ready?”

Hermione looked to him with a small laugh on her lips and sighed contentedly, running her fingers through his ruffled hair.  “I am.”

  
***

Ron and Harry were making their way down the hallowed hall while Snape pulled on his trousers and Hermione tried fixing her blouse. They worked in silence, comfortable but with a hint of something not said. Hermione watched Snape do the numerous buttons on his trousers, and she smiled tenderly at him.

He looked over to her and caught her gaze before she pre-occupied herself with her blouse. He noticed the faint pink hue on her cheeks and watched her pull on her knickers, her blouse forgotten.

Snape gave a short chuckle and with a short wrist movement with his wand, her blouse was fixed. She thanked him softly, not meeting his eyes yet. Something lurked in their seemingly mundane tasks, and Hermione was the first to speak, timidly and rather bashfully.

“Severus?” she said, trying the name out and seeing if he bristled. He didn’t. Instead, he turned to her, smirking at the use of his first name, it sounded so much sweeter coming from her.

“Yes?” he asked quietly, quite content to sit there and listen to her say his name over and over. He sat on the edge of the stool nearby, pulling on his shoes which had been scattered as he had flipped Hermione onto the desk. His neck and face flushed as he remembered how much of an animal he had been. He could have been wrong, but she had seemed to enjoy it.

Hermione twisted her fingers together, trying to piece together what had just happened. She had just lost her virginity to Professor Severus Snape, ex Death Eater. Her heart and stomach gave a little flip. Her hair was still damp and she pushed it from her face, knowing it was already starting to frizz. Snape was still watching her face, trying to see what was bothering her.

Hermione wondered if she should actually say what she was thinking, wondering if it was too fast. Even though these feelings had been stirring in her a long time, the same might not be with Snape. He watched her tenderly with those eyes of his, those black orbs that made you either way to break down and confess everything or keep everything inside. He was sitting there patiently with those eyes, waiting for her to speak.

“Severus, I think I-” her small voice was cut off when a loud bang sounded at the door. Hermione’s eyes flew open as she and Snape jerked their eyes to the door.

He quickly helped Hermione put her still damp cloak on, smoothing it out on her while she smiled at his frantic movements. He was about to go the door when she pulled his cloak, and kissed him deeply when he faced her.

He gave an uncharacteristically unguarded grin and then replaced it with a scowl as Hermione stifled a giggle and dashed off to his storage room with her heart fluttering. She heard Snape cough loudly before muttering: “Just a moment.”

He smoothed out his own robes, surveyed the classroom a moment seeing if he was missing any items of clothing, and then opened the door to his classroom with a heavy hand.

“Potter. Weasely.”  He inwardly groaned. “What can I do for you?”

Normally he would have answered much less kindly. But he had Hermione to think of, these were after all, her closest friends.

“H-has Hermione been here?” Harry asked breathlessly, his eyes looking all around the room. Ron nodded, breathing shakily and surveying the dark classroom as well.

“No,” Snape lied, he prepared to close the door.  
“Good evening.”

Harry pushed the door open, ambling his way in, clumsy at best. “You don’t understand, if she’s not here then I’m really worried.”

A loud sign emitted from an irritable Potions master. His eyes coolly met the boy wonder, his patience almost spent. He knew Hermione was safe and sound and that was all that mattered.

“Why would that be Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked angrily to the evil man in front of him. “Because she was furious, and if she hasn’t been to you or Black, I’m worried she might have done something drastic.”

Hermione herself was busy making herself comfortable in the back storage room, oblivious to the dialogue outside. She barely heard them anyway, and she looked at the many vials and jars Severus had stocked away. He had everything in seemingly alphabetical order, and she struggled not to laugh as she recalled why the whole ordeal had started. She may have said she regretted the whole thing before, but now with she and Severus, the answer was obvious.  The man was so precise, so very much like her. She smiled as she recalled the minutes prior. He had been so tender and explosive. The man was full of surprises.

 _Hermione Snape_.

Suddenly Hermione giggled quietly to herself at the awkwardness of the name, and recalled why she had stared out really hating Snape in the first place this year. For writing Hermione Black on a piece of parchment. How times did change.

Snape was now looking at Harry and Ron with obvious distaste in his eyes. “How does this affect me in the least?”

“It doesn’t really,” Harry said suddenly, his Gryffindor courage suddenly apparent, “But we do care since we care for Hermione. Don’t worry we wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Snape shrugged, although it killed him, fanning a hand in the direction of the door with a short:

“Good evening.”

Ron’s face was aflame with anger, and didn’t know what made him say what he did next. Perhaps it was because he hated Snape so much at that moment that he wanted to kill him or perhaps he knew Hermione harbored feelings obviously unrequited.

“Just to let you know, Professor,” Ron spat as he made his way out. “A girl like Hermione would never like you. You should be honored if she ever looked at you kindly, or touched you which she would only do out of pity I assure you.”

Silence.

Until.

“Thirty points from Gryffindor for disrespect to a teacher,” Snape hissed evenly, his eyes narrowing on Ron’s shaking frame. “Now, Get out of my sight, both of you.”

Ron said no more, but knew damage had been done. He and Harry rushed out of the lab as Snape slammed the door on them, the tears stinging the back of his eyes. He turned when he heard a small shuffling in the front of the classroom.

_Hermione._

He opened the door to the storage room, and saw Hermione shuffling about and looking at his various vials and such. She beamed at him, her eyes taking in his solemn face. Her smile fell from her face as she took a step towards him, her eyes searching his.

“What’s wrong?”

Snape didn’t answer, but went over to Hermione and looked her straight in the eye, the only sound heard was their breathing. This went on a minute more before Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

Snape claimed her lips suddenly, crushing them with his own as he forced his tongue into her sweet mouth. Finally he broke off the violent kiss, looking at her in the eye again. She looked momentarily confused.

“What’s wrong?” she said roughly, pulling from him.

“Nothing.”

Hermione nodded warily then smiled back to him, kissing him sweetly on the lips. He tried to enjoy it but Ron’s words flashed through his head, as he looked to a rather flustered Hermione. Had the Weasley boy been right? Did she really just pity him? The thought soured his stomach.

“Do you pity me?” he asked suddenly his dark eyes alight. Hermione looked to him as if he were joking and offered a small laugh and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Not really.”

Snape nodded at her words, trying to convince himself. But there was a lie in her limpid brown eyes as she spoke. Snape placed a finger under her jaw and lifted her face to meet his, along with her gaze.

“Tell me the truth, Hermione,” he said darkly. Hermione shrugged, and he lowered his hand as she met it. Hermione stroked the hand that was now in her palm with one finger.

“I admit I do feel sorry for you at times, Severus,” she said gently, looking to him with flooded eyes, “For all the times James and Sirius were so mean to you. And how your life was wasted as a Death Eater.”

Snape stood transfixed on her words, now confirmed of her pity. Snape held up a hand, making her halt her words. He didn’t want to hear anymore, he couldn’t bear it. And he looked to her eyes, misconstruing her look of love for pity.

“I think you should go, Miss Granger.”

_Miss Granger._

Hermione never thought she could hate her own name, but when it came from him it was heart wrenching. She looked to him horrified as she dropped his hand, causing him to wince.

Hermione stood there a moment, trying to understand what she had done wrong. Finally, her own anger got the better of her. He wanted her as a quick fuck? Fine. She didn’t need him.

“Go to hell.”  She brushed past him, he reached out faintly with one hand, struggling to call her back, but couldn’t find his voice. Hermione made her way down the halls, the tears falling freely down her cheeks.

Severus Snape had broken her heart.


	22. Content

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“The git is such a heartless bastard!” Ron fumed, his face as red as his hair. They paced around the Gryffindor common room, Harry looking equally furious.   
  
“Should’ve known he’d be no use,” Harry said sullenly as Ron threw himself into a chair by the fire. “We checked her room, we checked the dungeons, we checked with Black, we’ve been all over. Where else could she be?”  
  
Suddenly Ron darted straight up, his eyes suddenly wide with recognition. “Harry! Why didn’t we think of it before, The Marauder’s Map!”

“Brilliant!” Harry flashed a trademark grin before nodding and rushing up to his room. Scuffling ensued and suddenly the sound of footsteps on stone and the fluttering of paper graced Ron’s eager ears.   
  
“Here,” Harry said running over to him, his hair all tousled. “It should show us where she is at this exact moment.”

They stepped out into the hall, making sure it was empty and opening the map hurriedly. Suddenly Ron’s hand pointed to a slowly moving dot. “There she is!” he cried in triumph as Harry squinted at it.   
  
“That can’t be right Ron,” Harry said looking at the dot. “It says she’s right behind us.”

“What are you two doing?.”

The two boys jolted with sudden fright and turned to face a miserable looking Hermione.  She looked as if she’d been crying; her eyes were pink and puffy. She stared at them with an arched eyebrow, waiting for them to speak.   
  
“Hermione!” Ron breathed, looking to her fondly. “We were worried about you.”  
  
“Really?” Hermione said suspiciously, realizing her eyes must be a bit red rimmed from crying. She rubbed them absently, surprised at their response.  
  
“We thought you might have gone to Snape,” Ron trailed off as Hermione’s angry gaze strengthened. Harry suddenly interrupted.

“Hermione,” he said compassionately, “Have you been crying?”

Hermione looked to Harry stonily, her defenses up. She shrugged and suddenly Ron felt the urgent need to tell her what had happened between he and Snape. He was sure she would laugh along with him, after all the pain he had caused her.

“Well it’s good you didn’t see Snape,” Ron said with a lopsided grin. “He was in a right foul mood. But I took care of him.”

Immediately Hermione’s gaze turned steely. “What do you mean?”

Harry observed the tension from Hermione against Ron, a familiar sight between the two, and decided that now was an opportune time to excuse himself. He left them still standing in the corridor.

“You should have seen it,” Ron continued, his chest swelling proudly. “I told off the greasy git off for you.”

Hermione’s dark eyes suddenly narrowed and she looked to Ron with suspicion. “What?”

“I said, Snape you greasy git, just to let you know, a brilliant girl like Hermione would never like you or even look at you twice!” Ron was fairly beaming. “I said, you should be honored if she ever looked at you kindly, or touched you which she would only do out of pity I assure you!”

There was a beat of silence before Hermione’s face paled. With one swift movement, her palm connected with Ron’s fiery cheek and it echoed off the empty hallway. There was a hollow smacking sound as Ron suddenly cupped his wounded face.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked furiously.   
  
“You’ve ruined everything!”  Hermione said hollowly, choking back those tears, her cheeks reddening and her heart beating unevenly.

Ron suddenly began quaking, something no one at Hogwarts, save for his brother’s, had seen before and evidently by Hermione’s expression, neither had she.   
  
“Real fair,” Ron said spitting mad. “You mess me about with your love potion, trying to get me to help you, then fall in love with you and you say I’m ruining _your_ life?”

Hermione was quietly watching her old friend speak. He was babbling mostly, but beneath its clumsy exterior there was truth. That much was clear by the way his eyes were growing glassy.

“Don’t you get it?” Ron asked miserably. “You’ve ruined my life. Because I can never have you. And I feel so stupid because it’s so clear what’s going on. You can’t love me because you’re in love Snape.”

That was it. The flood started and Hermione was suddenly sobbing, throwing her arms around Ron’s shaking shoulders and wailing.

“I’m so sorry Ron,” she sobbed messily, trying to wipe her eyes free from those blasted tears. “You’re completely right. I was a terrible friend and I have no right being upset with you!”

 Ron felt his own tears slipping down his cheeks as he held her. After a few minutes the two of them regained composure.

“I’m sorry too Hermione,” Ron said somberly, brushing some stray hair from Hermione’s rosy face. “I only said that stuff to Snape because… Because I was jealous and I wanted to tell him off.”

“I did go to Snape, Ron,” Hermione said bashfully, “And, well, it doesn’t matter. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want me.”

Ron looked to Hermione with a solemn duty to protect her best interests, and with a heavy hand on her shoulder he looked to her.

“I think he really does.”

Hermione shook her head, suddenly overcome. She needed to make amends. Not just to Ron as she had done. But to Sirius as well. She needed to tell him everything.

***

Snape breathed heavily, his hair hanging in his face as he tried to calculate what made him say what he had. Why had he said such a cruel thing to Hermione only moments after making love to her?

_Weasely._

Ron had been right. Hermione had been doing it out of pity. God he had been stupid. His prior thoughts on lost love were replaced with ugly, hateful images as he tried desperately to stop the rapid beating of his heart.

_This is Lily all over again. Pity Pity Pity._

He walked over to the small vial in which he had been helping Hermione with, and sent it crashing into the bin. It had been a sort of momento, a remembrance of their time together, which was now like the potion that in the bottom of the bin. Gone.

 _Stupid Black._  

He didn’t know what made him think of Black at this moment. Perhaps his angry state, or the fact that he was just sick of having that man around Hermione all the time now.

 _His_ Hermione.

His brilliant, talented, beautiful to him Hermione Granger.

Perhaps it wasn’t just pity that he had seen in her eyes. Perhaps it was pity at the knowledge that she cared for Black more.

His mind trailed off of her, the pain was too great and all he could think of was how one person had ruined it before it had started.

Sirius Black.

***

“Thank you, Sirius,” Hermione said taking the cup of tea from him. “I don’t know how to properly say this…”

“You tried to use a lust potion on me,” Black observed gently. “But I saw Snape first instead and everything went tits up.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide in surprise. “You knew?”

“When I came out of my lust-filled fog,” Sirius nodded, taking a sip from his own teacup. “I must admit I’m rather surprised it all started because of you. The brightest witch of her age playing about with a love potion.”

Hermione’s eyes were shining with fresh tears again, and she tried to hide them from him. This didn’t work on the ever-scrupulous Black.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione whispered. Her eyes were closed in humiliation. “For everything.”

“I know you are,” Black said, his gaze soft. “And I can only assume that you’ve punished yourself enough for all of this?”

“Yes, sir.”

He clucked his tongue, sitting across from her and sighed deeply. He stared at the miserable girl for a long moment.  “But that’s not what’s making you cry, is it?”

Hermione immediately stiffened.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time,” Hermione said, placing her cup down and preparing to stand. She stopped only when Black raised a hand of command.

“It’s quite alright, Hermione,” Black said looking to her kindly. “My door is always open to you. Don’t leave.”

She leaned back in the comfortable chair in Black’s classroom, her eyes looking at the ceiling.

“Now tell me what’s upsetting you,” Black said as he gazed at her. “Though I have a pretty good idea why.”

Hermione felt her cheeks pinking at his words. Black had been with Snape and her as they brewed. He’d seen the growing attraction. The way Snape watched her at meals. The way she stared at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. They were besotted.

She knew he deserved better than her denial. He already knew. He was so much more perceptive than she gave him credit for. And so instead she sighed, slumping a bit into the chair bonelessly.

“Why does he do it?” she wondered aloud, her chin wobbling. “Why does he have to be so prickly?”

 She wouldn’t cry. She insisted she wouldn’t waste any more tears on him. It was clear he had no interest in pursuing anything with her. She had been a quick shag. How humiliating.   
  
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Black drawled, looking to his tea momentarily, not wanting to go on. “He didn’t have the easiest of childhoods and when he came to Hogwarts. . . Well, he didn’t have an easy time here either.”

“Oh no Sirius,” Hermione said, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

Black shrugged, he knew what he had done to the poor adolescent Severus Snape was wrong. He had his whole life to pity himself, but now, Snape needed his help, and he had to oblige. It was a small amend, but it was a chance to say he was sorry without actually facing the dark git.

“Hermione,” he said, licking his lips nervously. “James and I were horrible to Severus, we did nothing but make his adolescent life a living hell. He had one friend in Lily and we managed to make her turn against him.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears again, but Black shook his head, telling Hermione mentally that tears could not save him now.

“You care for him and he cares for you,” Black was blunt.  “But the mere fact that you held an attraction towards me, his sworn enemy, is probably always in the back of Severus’ mind.”

Hermione looked to Sirius thoughtfully. She hadn’t really thought about that.

“He has always been pitied. By Minerva, Dumbledore and lately, me. He probably just thought you were different.”

A flash of anger and Hermione jumped from her seat, her tea forgotten and upset on the floor of Black’s messy classroom.

“But I am!” Hermione replied indignantly, “I don’t see him as you and James and everyone else did. I see him now as a man, a man that I love. A man I want to love me back. The only pity I hold is that love is so foreign to him.”

Hermione collapsed into Black’s suddenly welcoming arms, her sobs wet against his robes. He rubbed her back in a familial fashion, whispering that she was alright.

Black was about to speak more when a thundering boom sounded on his door and a livid Severus Snape stood in the doorframe, shaking with fury. He saw Black’s arms around Hermione’s narrow shoulders and all he could see for a moment was red around his vision.

“Black,” he snarled, not looking to Hermione any longer, he seemed he was going to speak more when suddenly out of his pocket, his wand was produced, like he had been waiting for an attack, Black frantically reached for his own weapon, pushing Hermione from him as Snape moved on.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” Snape bellowed furiously, as Black’s wand flew several meters behind him, hitting the chalkboard and falling with a gentle clatter to the floor. Black’s eyes were wide with terror as he realized how crazed Severus looked.   
  
Suddenly Snape boomed as Black made a dive for his wand, “ _Impedimenta_!” and Black had fallen, as though bound by invisible ropes which he clawed at to no avail. Snape smirked evilly as he made his way over to him, he kneeled next to him, giving him a malicious sneer before saying quietly.

“Revenge is sweet, isn’t it _Blackhead_?”

Then a sudden flash of light was seen as Black was upside down in the air, bellowing at Snape to let him down. Vicious curses rang out through the air as Snape looked up to him victoriously. This was his turn, he would not be humiliated this time.

“Perhaps I should get the staff, hmmm?” Snape asked merrily, his eyes twinkling in a ghastly way. “Some students to jeer and point? What do you think?”

“Snape, as per usual, you don’t understand,” Black grunted, trying to focus on the swirling ground below. He felt his vision black a moment and then his eyes were narrowed on the smirking Snape.

“Leave him alone!” came a small yell from beside a Snape. His mind broke from its hypnosis and he glared at her.

“Worried about your _lover_ , Granger?” he said madly, his eyes narrowing on her own, then glancing back up he added “Pity.”

“Severus!” Hermione shouted frantically, tugging at his cloak, he didn’t answer, his dark eyes were feasting on Black’s wriggling body.

“Stop it!”

Snape stopped, looking to Hermione with anger and pain in those dark orbs of his. “Why? Are you in love with him again? What potion have you come up with for this round?”

Hermione wanted nothing more than to slap that sneer off his face but couldn’t.

“You don’t understand,” Hermione said shaking her head. “I don’t love him, you git! The man I love is standing there acting like an overgrown bully!”

Snape’s smirk faltered, as he heard her utter those words. Something snapped within him as he realized what she was saying. As if he had been transported outside his own body, he looked back to Black’s wiggling body and suddenly felt his heart fall.

_What am I doing?_

He was just as bad as Black had been. Slowly he muttered a small incantation and Black floated soundlessly to the flood.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Snape muttered, pulling the remaining ropes from the man’s body.

“I apologize Black,” Severus said blankly, looking to Black hollowly. Black nodded, running a hand through his hair.

“I’d say we’re even,” Black said with a dimpled smirk. “But best you save your apologies for me. Someone else needs you more.”

Snape saw that Black was now looking to the spot where Hermione had been.

She was gone.

Snape looked back to Black, hurriedly preparing to say something to excuse him when Black with an smirk and nodded.

 “Better hurry, she walks fast.”

Snape didn’t grace him with a reply, as he was now running down the halls, frantically searching for Hermione.

It seemed that everyone had congregated outside on the luck grass for some picnicking, or playing and Snape envied each of the young couples holding hands and laughing. Love was so easy for some. Why must it be a continual struggle for him?

Several Professors sat talking in the grass or walking, surveying the students, obviously not inviting Severus out for who wanted his company? Who would want to be near Severus Snape if they didn’t have to be?

_She did._

He was nearing the path that lead to the forest, and he decided that perhaps a long walk down there would suffice his endless painstaking walking. He had decided to give up once and for all when a small hand touched his shoulder.

“Severus,” she said gently, looking to his hooded eyes with compassion. “I’m sorry I left, but I felt I should.”

Snape nodded, his eyes stinging with restrained tears as he looked at her serious face.

“How can you stand there apologizing to me?” Snape managed. “When I’m the one that’s been a perfect prat?”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Hermione said with a wry smile. The two lapsed into a soft silence, the sound of students outside on the lawn.

 “I don’t pity you Severus,” she said rather sternly, facing him and standing at her full height, “And don’t expect me to.”

He nodded at this bemused, with a small hint of a smirk on his full and luscious lips. She went on with a deep breath, her eyes locking with his.

“I understand that you’re my professor, and I understand that you think I’m an insufferable know-it-all.” At this she and Snape both smiled. “But I care for you. And I need to know what you feel for me.”

He didn’t move, didn’t respond and she felt her heart sink as she nodded as if hearing his unspoken answer. The tears stopped after her confession and she nodded once more, turning from him. She noticed the teachers around and this confirmed his actions.

Suddenly his hand was heavily on her shoulders as he whirled her gently to face him. He smiled as he tried to regain his composure.

“Hermione,” he said the name softly, his lips loving the way her name sounded on his lips. “You silly girl. Of course I care for you. How could I not?”

Hermione felt her heart soar, and his smile grew wide.

“I care for you more than I have anyone in a very long time,” Snape murmured. “I find my insides battling within me, convinced that I don’t deserve this. Another part of me wanting it desperately to be real.”

“It’s real,” Hermione said softly. “But you need to stop pushing me away.”

“Yes,” Snape nodded gently. “I agree.”

She reached out to kiss his sweet lips when she saw the look he shot around at his peers from a few feet away. A nervous and restrained look covered his features. Minerva looked to Hermione with a small nod and smile before looking back to a still talking Albus.

Hermione then realized their relationship was one that would be scrutinized to no ends if put out on public display, so she pulled back gently, no feelings hurt for she understood.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Snape nodded in reply to her request and matched her steps, looking a little more relaxed now that they were going farther from the unsuspecting crowd. There was her graduation ahead, and then after that a long time to spend together.

And now walking with him along the path that lead to the forest he reached out a lean hand and hurriedly grasped her own in his.  

She looked down at their fingers entwined, and a smile touched her lips, and as she looked to his usually stony face, she noticed a smile playing upon his lips as well, his face wistful as if in a pleasant dream. There would be much laughter and kissing and love making and talking in their future.   
  
For now she was just content to hold his hand.


End file.
